I bought this notebook because it bears the singular command: write.
And so I do. “Think about your story with black and white,” says my soulful photography-class instructor Michelle Gardella in Foundations of Black and White. And my fingers are inkstained with it, how my story began with black OR white, the lens through which I grew up seeing the world. And how in a purely black or white world there is blindness. There is no variation of shadow, and it is through the presence of shadows that we find our truth.
When I lost my words through a complex unbecoming of all that was, I found the paradox of both-and. Both-and: black and white (and fire and color and shadow and prisms and fractals and energy and the numinous beauty of everything, especially God.) Black and white is my evocative truth, where so much is revealed and yet so much is unknown, layered, mysterious. It is how I see within. It is how I gaze into the true interior of things, to reach in and gather light.
I am not who I thought I would be. My words have returned and so, it feels, have I.
*Making a few changes to this space...thank you for being patient with any awkward transitions. You're likely to run into dangling participles and sentence fragments.