under cover of darkness in daisies growing randomly through the tall meadow grass.
I feel unstoppable; I hear the joy of my own laughter.
A stunning evening sky blossoms above me, twinkling.
The moon echoes my laughter.
The wind sings a night song.
I twinkle and laugh and sing with them.
The fireflies are back.
unfurls as it does and time is irrelevant.
It is full of many things.
Joy.
Sorrow.
Disappointment.
Happiness.
Melancholy.
There is no end to the myriad of feelings and emotions that make up the fabric of our lives.
Me, we, all of us want to belong to something, to someone.
Just to belong.
The important thing is to not lose who we are when we try to belong to that which we dont.
A square peg in a round hole.
I would prefer to know I have been true to myself than to find I had sacrificed myself, my thoughts and my feelings for nothing special.
Life unfolds in its own time.
I’m inclined to be patient while it does.
I would rather march alone to my own drummer than to give up the sticks simply to be accepted.
Nature, in all her beauty, would agree, for not one leaf nor wildflower would give up their magnificence for acceptance.
And so, I think, I shall aspire to think as a wildflower; and knowing, that though different I am, in The Creator’s eyes, beautiful.
Posted in blog, creation, faith, from my heart, Life, life experiences, nature, peace, poetry, Time, wildflowers, words, worship
descends beneath a full moon that lights the fog in the valley, turning it into a magic place, a world of fantastic images, shadows; sweet-smelling and ripe with blooms of blackberry brambles.
A beautiful thing to be part of such wonder.
Such intricate loveliness.
How gloriously beautiful, ethereal, imperial, mysterious and full of magic is the full moon.
As is any phase of the Lunar cycle, excepting the disappointing invisibility of the New Moon.
She, for I think of her as she, makes the dark, midnight hours resemble a muted dawn.
Shadows and silhouettes dancing amidst the cool wind and shifting clouds.
Such wonder in the shattered darkness that enthusiastically precedes a new day.
I talk to the moon, I stand in her light and find a piece of myself and, ironically, a peace in myself.
A moment of belonging to the night, the sky, the universe.
Simply belonging.
Different.
Struggling.
Surviving.
Living.
She, like her creator, loves me though I am flawed.
How, you ask can I speak of magic alongside creation without sounding like a hypocrite?
Because the magic, joy, humility, blatant brilliance and magesty of creation takes my breath away. That isn’t hypocritical, it’s simple fact.
Yes, I love the moon.
This time next month, the fireflies will frolic and dance beneath her easy light.
I can scarcely wait for them.
Judge me if you must, but it won’t stop the fireflies nor the words the moon, if you listen, has to say.
So, yeah.
I do love the moon.
Posted in blessings, blog, blogger, bloggess, creation, earth, human, Life, life experiences, moon, Pentax, Pentaxian, photographer, Photography, words
Tagged blackberry winter, creation, might sky, moon, universe
almost always comes as a surprise.
We know we are different and unusual; difficult to tolerate even during good days.
We know we have odd tendencies that ostrasize us from the general population.
We do things that are out of character and can be hurtful, even though that is not who we are, to others.
Others we love or care about; or think we do anyway.
I say we because it is more comfortable than saying I.
I take responsibility for my madness even though it often happens without my knowledge.
Some of the world’s greatest artists and thinkers were mad, so I am in good company.
But being in good company doesn’t relinquish nor excuse the madness.
Sometimes it feeds it.
But being so, mad that is, leads to one place … a solitary life.
Who, after all, wants to be associated with madness.
Everything isn’t always as it seems, but judgement is swift.
The world will never understand who we are.
You are.
I am.
Madness.
It is a lonely place to be.
But it is, at the end of the day, a place I recognize.
forgotten
Posted in alone, being human, being myself, blog, blogger, bloggess, emotions, feeling crazy, Life, life experiences, Mad as a Hatter, Time, weirdness, words
for a bit of a while.
Wandering aimlessly even though I knew full well the direction.
But I didn’t follow them.
The directions.
It happens to everyone at one time or another.
I left what I knew to be true and followed what I wanted to be true.
A path that can lead to nowhere in particular.
I have made it clear in previous posts that “religion” has very little to do with me.
Depending on what someone believes, their “religion” could be just about anything.
I love Jesus.
I do.
I fail to show it more often than I succeed, but it is true.
People fail.
It is in our nature to falter and to struggle.
We. Are. Not. Perfect.
But Jesus doesn’t expect perfection.
And that is a very good thing.
Otherwise, we would all be doomed to what we have done.
Don’t shake your head and say you haven’t done anything because trust me, you’ve done plenty.
If my past was the crux of my salvation, I would already be doomed.
I could tell you stories that would curl the hair on your head, and if your happen to be bald, it would sprout growth.
I deserved to have stones thrown at me.
I still do, every day, and yet, for some reason, Jesus loves me.
One day, He will dry the last tears I will ever cry.
That is a lovely line and I would like take credit for it, but it comes from a song from Casting Crowns called “The Wedding”.
It says a lot of things that mean something to me.
Why?
Because I know that any goodness I have, have had or will ever have comes from Jesus.
He made a choice to give His life for all of us.
God didn’t make him.
Jesus was, as we are, of free will.
He could have opted out and even prayed that the cup be taken from him.
He could have refused.
But He didn’t.
It should be enough to know that he could have and didn’t.
I judge myself daily, multiple times. I don’t need others to judge me, but they do anyway.
All I really know is that He shows me incredible things through His creation.
I feel the wind on my face, the sun on my skin … see the lightning and hear the thunder.
I am amazed by who He is and what He has done.
I feel odd saying that He loves me, but He does.
I don’t know why and have stopped asking.
He just does.
Via Casting Crowns: “There’s a stirring in the throne room” … “the last tears she’s will ever cry have been wiped away”.
Today is Easter.
The “Third Day”.
“Resurrection Day”.
I believe this just as I believe the birds sing, the sky is blue and the moon is beautiful.
He loves me even when I am unlovable, tainted, scarred, sinful, judgmental .
He finds me beautiful as He will find you.
I will share this day, not my photographs, which He has given me through the eyes of His spirit, but a song by the group Casting Crowns.
Know your worth in Christ.
He is beautiful and finds you to be the same.
Don’t be ashamed of who you were, be joyful in who you are.
We are His and He loves us even though we are not worthy.
A beautiful thing, that.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2q4mxl1OXM
Psalms 139:14 ~ I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.
Posted in being human, being myself, believer, blessings, blog, blogger, bloggess, broken, brokenness, Casting Crowns, choices, faith, follower of Jesus, free, Freedom, God, Jesus, joy, Judge, Life, life experiences, Photography, Time, words, worship, writer
Tagged beautiful, beauty, blog, Casting Crowns, creation, Easter, encouragement, excitement, faith, gina minton kearns, gina minton kearns blog, God, God's creation, grace, He is Risen, jesus, jesus christ, life, love, sinner, spiritual encouragement, Through the Eyes of the Spirit, words, worship
of blogging about driving around today with the convertible top down, the music loud and the wind in my face; of blooming trees and budding flowers, puffy clouds in a blue, sun-drenched sky and the perfectness of a warm April day.
But I just hung up the phone after talking to my mom and the things I previously held up in importance faded into the background.
She is a rock, a beacon, a lighthouse, a safe haven.
She knows everything about me, the things that shamed me and, at one time or another, shamed her.
In my youth, I hurt her deeply and couldn’t find within myself the knowledge or ability to make it right.
She knows of my dreams and aspirations and is always the first one to encourage me even as she puts her own dreams and aspirations on hold.
It isn’t easy to explain to someone that thoughts, images, words, experiences, memories and a myriad of other flotsam runs through my head, in a constant stream, even when I’m sleeping.
And that is when I am at my baseline and not in manic mode.
She takes it in stride without judgement or condemnation and, I have come to realize, did so even when I felt I was being judged and condemned.
Nobody can condemn me any more than I condemn myself. It is the nature of my world and I live with it.
She knows, though, simply by looking at my face or hearing my voice ,when I am in the throes of mania or, thankfully more rarely, the despondency of a depressive crash.
She understands that sometimes, I have to go away; from her, from myself, from everyone and just be dormant.
She knows these things and doesn’t hold them against me.
There is no “well, you did this or that or the other thing”.
She isn’t like that.
She is patient and kind.
She is, without doubt, the Proverbs 31 woman.
I would like to be like her, but that is an aspiration that will never come. It isn’t that my cup is half empty, but that I live, as much as I can, in a reality-based existence.
She is a light in a dark place and I migrate to her when I need simply to know that someone loves me unconditionally.
I tell her I love her, but how do you describe to someone that you cannot imagine a life without them.
Unless I die first by some freak event, by the natural order of things, I will lose her at some point in my life.
I cannot imagine a world without my mom.
So I will put that with other things I cannot imagine into a box that lives in the outer-regions of my heart.
When I am manic, the box will break open and I will have to face the possibility, but for now, when I am am simply on overdrive, it is secure in the little locked box.
She inspires me with her acceptance and encouragement and that, without doubt or reservation, beats blooming trees in springtime seen from a back road drive with the convertible top down.
I love you, Mom .
A houseguest
My Mother’s Mother’s bleeding hearts
This is how she makes me feel … cherished
All of that being said about my mom, I want to extrapolate to another area and extend prayers and encouragement to a friend that I have long lost touch with. She lost her son, the light of her world and is now lying among the shattered pieces of her world. Keep Pam Begley in your prayers when you pray. I cannot fathom losing a child.
Posted in being human, being myself, bipolar, blessings, blog, blogger, bloggess, convertible, creation, creative, daughter, depression, dreams, emotion, emotions, Encouragement, from my heart, healing, knowledge, laughter, Life, mental illness, Mom, Mother, Nature Photographer, parent, Pentax, Pentaxian, photographer, Photography, solitude, Spring, Time, weird stuff, weirdness, wildflowers, wildlife, words, writer
Tagged a mother's love, beautiful, beauty, blog, courage, creation, dreams, emotions, encouragement, faith, family, gina minton kearns, gina minton kearns blog, Gina Minton Kearns Photography, God's creation, grace, life, love, mom, mother, strength, unconditional love, understanding, words
I would play it now.
But I don’t.
Not because I don’t love music, the sound of it, the melody, the thought-provoking, beauteous sound that it makes.
No, none of those.
I don’t because I can’t play a note.
Not one.
I haven’t even mastered Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which most kindergartners can play on their I-Pads.
It is pathetic, in a profoundly sad kind of way, that I depend of others to give me my music fix.
Ok, let’s be specific.
My piano fix.
I love many kinds of music, but there is something about the piano that takes me to that other place.
I love hands, and that may be part of the obsession.
Hands can tell so much about a person.
Being a photographer, I spend a good deal of time photographing hands as each one has a story to tell.
Some are gnarled and twisted with arthritis and yet still maintain the ability to button a jacket.
Some are destined to labor and become calloused and sore as they work, year after year after year.
Some are chosen to be used to create music, others, prose.
Some are used to touch the afflicted, without fear of contamination, and to comfort the comfortless.
Some are of no use at all, hanging silently and without guilt or guile at what they, were they so inclined, could accomplish.
Some are at the ready, pressing the shutter button to capture images that will take the present well into the future in images.
Some are folded, reverently, in prayer as they pray and give thanks for all manner of things.
Hands, more than any other feature, have a story to tell but, as hands, they are too humble to say so.
Look. See. Experience.
And know that simply by looking at someone’s hands, you have had a small glimpse into their soul.
Papaw’s hands
A Cyclist’s Hands
A Fisherman’s Hands
A baby’s hands
A Cellist’s hands
A Clarinetist’s hands
A musician’s hands
Posted in bipolar, black and white photography, child, creative, hands, imagination, Life, life experiences, little things, Mother Nature, Pentax, Pentaxian, Photography, pianist, piano, Southwest Virginia Blogger, Southwest Virginia Photographer, Time
Tagged beautiful, blog, dreams, gina minton kearns, gina minton kearns blog, Gina Minton Kearns Photography, life, nature, Pentax, photographer, photography, words
although sometimes, until it is compromised, we can forget that simple fact and take for granted that we will just wake up every morning.
We forget that no-one is promised another day, another hour, another minute.
I did.
Took it for granted, that is.
I set my alarm each night in a way that is likely odd to most. I set it for 1:00 am, then hit the three hour snooze which takes me to 4:00 am, then hit the preset alarm for 5:15. And when it goes off that last time, I spring up and begin my routine which is exactly the same every morning.
No deviation.
Ever.
This past Friday, I followed the same pattern. I woke up, started the coffee, brushed my teeth, drank half my coffee and took the rest into a scalding hot shower for 20 minutes, started my car (it’s pitch dark here at that hour, so clothes are optional), fed the cat, dressed and went to work.
I arrived without incident, but while walking into the building, I passed out.
A friend I walk into work with most mornings was with me and kept me from busting my head on the concrete, for which I am grateful, and got me to the ER.
I was found to be profoundly anemic and the plans to administer a transfusion were quickly underway.
But in the meantime, life interfered.
My heart stopped.
I don’t recollect that as it was for less than two minutes before the adept ER staff had me back up and running, but it doesn’t change the fact that, for a period of 96 seconds, my heart did not beat.
I left that part out when I told my family about my transfusion because, well, I suppose I don’t have a good reason except that they would have made a big deal about it and worried unnecessarily about the whole thing.
I didn’t see any lights or hear voices nor did I venture into the afterlife.
I have no stories to tell or visions to embellish.
What I do know is that each moment, even the boring and insubstantial ones, carry some importance.
I could have simply slipped away. That would have been ok as I know who I am, to whom I belong and where I well be when my time is up.
I’m thankful, however, that I have more time to love those who touch my heart, to offer encouragement and to continue to walk the path I have been given.
I am, yet again, blessed … and I am thankful.
Each moment unfolds when it is meant …
Posted in a photographer's heart, alone, anemic, being human, being myself, believer, blessings, blog, blogger, bloggess, coffee, death, emotions, Encouragement, family, friends, from my heart, God, healing, human, Jesus, knowledge, Life, life experiences, little things, nature, Nature Photographer, Pentax, Pentaxian, Photography, Time, words, worship, writer
Tagged beautiful, beauty, blog, emotions, encouragement, faith, family, fear, friends, gina minton kearns, gina minton kearns blog, Gina Minton Kearns Photography, God, God's creation, grace, jesus, life, love, Pentax, photographer, photography, spiritual encouragement, Through the Eyes of the Spirit, words
to put things in perspective.
And I had one.
A good, old-fashioned meltdown complete with crying, sobbing, pacing, stomping, ranting, raving and, to make it an official meltdown not just just a casual break in stride, ended with the impressive sound of breaking glass.
What is it about breaking things that culminates the entire process to tie it all nicely into a neat little package that leads, oddly enough, to the return of sanity.
I didn’t actually intend, when the meltdown started, to break anything, but throwing that heavy candle-holder dead on into my bathroom mirror and watching the shatter … well, that pretty much made my day.
That sounds nutty, right?
Of course it does.
At this point, you are doing one of two things: nodding your head in agreement or shaking it in disbelief.
Those are the two choices.
There are no gray areas when it comes to the breaking point. You either do, you don’t; you are glad you did or you wish you hadn ‘t.
I’m glad I did.
My mind is as clear as a bell.
The photographic celibacy I’ve been in for the past few weeks has passed, the writer’s block has been shattered just like that bathroom mirror.
I don’t use the mirror anyway.
My hair is too short to do anything but mousse it to stand up and I haven ‘t worn make-up in years.
I did have to buy a new toothbrush, however, as I wasn’t certain I got all of the glass shards out of it and dentists and coroners alike frown on putting glass in your mouth.
People who don’t know me personally are thinking right now that they are better off, people who do know me are singing the hallelujah chorus.
There is nothing wrong with going, once in a while, off the deep end … as long as nobody gets hurt.
This is a big reason why I don’t date. Can you imagine it? I’d have a restraining order against me after the first week … unless, of course, I could find a nice Irishman who liked a donnybrook now and then as much as I did.
But that is neither here nor there.
Be who you are, even when you are throwing things. That’s my motto.
Even Jesus threw things … remember the tantrum in the temple? He is as much a part of me when I’m throwing things as when I’m in His woods or writing His words.
I’m His either way and there is magnificent peace in simply knowing that single fact. I, like the sun, the stars, the moon, the earth, the grass the trees … have a purpose.
And He helps me find it, sometimes by throwing things.
How very cool is that?
Like a moth to a flames, so the fireflies are drawn to the moon of summer.
Posted in anxiety, art, being human, being myself, believer, blessings, blog, blogger, bloggess, broken, compassion, contentment, cry, emotion, emotions, faith in myself, feelings, from my heart, Greeting Cards, healing, human, humor, It is what it is, Jesus, Life, life experiences, meltdown, photographer, Photography, poem, prayer, shattered mirrors, Southwest Virginia Blogger, Southwest Virginia Photographer, spiritual healing, throwing things, words, worship, writer
Tagged beautiful, blog, breaking things, courage, creation, emotions, faith, family, fear, friends, gina minton kearns, gina minton kearns blog, Gina Minton Kearns Photography, God's creation, grace, greeting cards, jesus, Jesus' glory, life, love, meltdown, photographer, photography, purpose, shattered, Through the Eyes of the Spirit, unique, words
but unfortunately for most of us, ignorance is a luxury.
I have found myself spellbound by the idea of someone.
The thought that they were what I might, had I actually been looking for someone, have been looking for is like a siren’s song.
It is easy to become sidetracked by the fantasies we weave in our own minds when we aren’t paying close attention.
I did that.
I wove fantasies, thought thoughts, dreamed dreams and built castles in the air when there were no fantasies to be fantasized about, no pertinent thoughts to think and no castles to build.
It is the downside of an active imagination.
Reality takes a back seat and the fantastical takes on a life of its own.
There is no shame in that; the imagining, wishing, dreaming.
No shame at all, however, it is important to know where dreams end and reality begins.
Otherwise, you are left scratching your head and wondering where you went wrong.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent way too much time becoming whole and confident in my own thoughts and abilities to throw it away by putting all of my eggs in one basket.
If you put all your eggs in one basket and then drop that basket, all of the eggs are ruined and you are back where you started when you didn’t have any eggs at all.
I, for one, want to have at least some whole, unbroken eggs in my basket.
I have, up until my husband passed a few years ago, never lived on my own.
Never experienced the pure joy of doing what I want, when I want, the way I want or not doing it, whatever it may be, at all.
I came very close to throwing all of that away by thinking I needed validation for this or the other thing.
I don’t.
Need validation, that is.
I am happy being by myself.
Alone, I am not lonely.
Instead, I am free in a way I never imagined.
I find myself pulling back from what I once longed for and realizing that I am perfectly content as I am.
I don’t know how I would react to a relationship, but the past few months have taught me that I do not need anyone to complete me.
I always thought I did, but I don’t.
I can ‘t remember a time when I felt so content.
Yes, sometimes my brain overtakes my soul and I’m manic to the point of madness.
But that, as it always has, passes and I am left, once again, serene in my solitude.
I have my thoughts, my words, my music and the magnificent creation of my Father to sustain me.
It makes me want to encourage others who feel they are not whole unless they are paired with someone to rethink their priorities.
I don’t know what I would, at this juncture in my life, do in a relationship, but I feel, at this point, that I have become too self-sufficient to rely on anyone to complete me.
When I need completion, I grab my camera and head to the mountains.
Companionship comes to me in the form of moon, sky, trees, water, light and shadow.
Seek what you will, but know, before you seek, that even if you don’t find, you are, as you are, enough.
Everything else is simply icing.
The magnificent song of Winter silence
Posted in a photographer's heart, alone, art, being human, being myself, bipolar, blessings, blog, blogger, bloggess, creation, creative, dreams, earth, feeling crazy, free, Freedom, from my heart, Frozen Waterfall, God, happiness, happy, human, in my opinion, insecurity, It is what it is, knowledge, Life, life experiences, manic, moon, music, peace, Pentax, Pentaxian, photographer, Photography, solitude, Southwest Virginia Blogger, Southwest Virginia Photographer, strength, strong in body and mind, through the eyes of the spirit, what was I thinking, winter photography, words, writer
Tagged beautiful, beauty, blog, creation, dreams, emotions, encouragement, excitement, faith, gina minton kearns, gina minton kearns blog, Gina Minton Kearns Photography, God's creation, greeting cards, life, love, mountains, music, nature, Pentax, photographer, photography, Scott County Virginia, spiritual encouragement, strength, Through the Eyes of the Spirit, words
A Photographer's Heart 