My mind and heart were bleached clean by the sun and salt water during one June week in Surfside Beach, South Carolina. I found myself wanting to use my Canon again after years of disinterest. I’ll be sharing a few sets of shots from that week in the next few posts.

I’m staying cocooned in my home this week, working through each little pain and complication of last week’s surgery. The pain brings clarity of focus, and I find myself considering small details, like the banding on this teeny hand-thrown vase, for long moments.

I hear giggles mixed with serious discussion drifting up the stairs to my sick bed. I haul myself to standing, hobble to my camera, and tiptoe down the open stairs to see exactly how this day of their summer vacation is starting.

Surgery is over. I’m filled with gratitude for surviving, and I’m also in a lot of pain. Friends have been so kind, bringing flowers and meals, and my best friend has been at my side every minute. I will be in bed for a little while longer but have some good reads to keep me company.

“…and being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” ~ Luke 22:44 I clear the dinner plates from the table, pile them into the sink and begin to rinse them off when the crushing weight of remembering hits me again, making my heart thump heavy. In three days my mind will know nothing. The night before, I lay curled on our bed, weeping, terrible fear smothering reason. I asked John what happens to our souls when we are under anesthesia. He pulled wet ribbons of hair off of my cheeks and said our souls sleep, honey, we just go to sleep so we don’t feel pain. ...

I stood at the edge of the tracks, very close, maybe too close. But I’d never had a train pass within feet of my body. I did not know what it felt like to be nudged by that great wave of air coming fast in front of the engine, and I wanted to know, just in case. So I stood close and felt a cracking pain in my eardrum when the whistle blew. ...

It is kind of weird to be shopping at Whole Foods on a Sunday afternoon and come across a band standing in a little triangle-shaped space between the olive oil, fish fry counter and bulk dried beans, jamming their faces off. It’s even weirder when the music is actually incredibly good. I wedged my body between two parties of greasy-lipped diners woofing down their fried oysters to take these shots, but in my defense, I did give them the apologetic photog face.

I wonder if a butterfly hanging wet-winged and upside down from a slender branch doesn’t look up at the grass or down at the sky and think to herself, “Hello, Grass,” or “Hello, Sky, I have been away for a while. But I am here now.” In June of 2010 started working full-time in order to provide for the family during a long financial dry spell. I found out quickly that I was not Super Woman. I failed often at work, excelled at nothing at home. I stopped writing, crafting, cooking, stopped playing a meaningful role in the homeschooling. The loss of eight, nine, ten hours of every one of my days forced me to abandon nearly every parenting practice and homekeeping habit that I held dear. It was all I could do to survive from day to day as I tried to keep work tasks, thoughts and stress from completely taking over my mind, body and spirit. I just…stopped making a home for my family. And after two years, this became a new normal, and I thought that this “who I am” was going to be forever. ...

The older men always doze on the evening bus ride back to suburbia. Their heads nod in unison, lowering to their chests, and with each pneumatic sighing press of the brakes, their heads flick upright, as if mounted on hinges, and so they nod their agreement that, yes, their days are numbered.

Three of my photos have been selected to be a part of the InstantDC Mobile Photography Show 2011, sponsored by the DC Ad Club and APA and in partnership with FotoweekDC. Opening night is Wednesday, November 9th at Interface Media Group, 1233 20th Street, NW, Washington, DC. I attended this same show last year as a wannabe. I moved from grouping to grouping and wondered if I’d ever be “good enough” to have anything of mine hanging next to anything of theirs. Crazy stuff.