For a really long time, I thought birds were creepy. I mean, who would want to own one as a pet? They’re loud and strange. You have to cover up their cages at night. What is that all about? And they live a freakishly long time. Right–well dummy me, those are just the “domestic” varieties that people take up as pets. The birds that live in our trees and near the sea and are in nature around us…well, they’re another story.
And I seem to be drawn to them. I take a ton of photos of them, and they don’t seem to mind. Shoot, I like to think they may even be posing and smiling for me. Their flight and migratory patterns fascinate me. Their tiny and lightweight strength stir up envy within me. And their freedom…well, that is something we all desire, right? Literally or metaphorically, taking flight and infinite blue skies are things each one of us dream of.
You may have read Adventures in Percocet a while back. Just a bit over a year ago, it was one of the darkest times in my life. Aside from the physical pain, I was in mental torture and agony. I never thought I’d recover. I know it seems dramatic, but it was true. I knew I’d be ok, I just didn’t know how/when/if I’d ever get there. When you want another child the way I did, the “failure” knocks you down and cripples every ounce of who you are. The losses, and that one in particular, broke me. I was a less effective teacher, an absent friend, a neglectful wife, and a ghost of a mother. I was ashamed of who I was because I couldn’t seem to shake the cloud that surrounded me. I felt weak, helpless, and hopeless. And, yes, I ashamedly admit that I contemplated some horrible things in regard to my future (or seeming lack thereof). Yes, it was that bad.
But, my beloved readers, it’s over. The clouds have lifted. My internal birds have healed, grown new wings, and have taken flight. It’s not like this is a sudden epiphany for me. The freedom happened a while ago–I’d say back in April or May. But I am finally ready to share it with the world. And I am oh so happy. I feel like good old Marisa, but new and improved Marisa. This girl has survived some darkness and the sky is a brighter blue forevermore.
As I’ve done six other times before, I turned to my usual transformative outlet–a tattoo gun. I exchanged some temporary pain for a forever mark. Birds. Flying from my scar and setting this girl free. For some, moving on is about forgetting. I don’t forget when I need to move on; I forgive. And I need to remember. I need to remember that I made it through. I pushed past the sadness, looked within, loved myself, and forgave myself for being so damn cruel to my spirit. So, here is my memory. A memory of a passionate dream which indelibly changed my reality. And for the experience, I am grateful. I have to be.
Sorry about the panty shot. But you can handle it, right?! What do you think? I just love it. I love the delicacy of the wings, but the strength in their bodies. And sorry about the blood and plasma ooze in the photo. I just couldn’t wait for it to heal before I showed you. And the clear Band-Aid has to stay on for 3 to 4 days. I wasn’t about to wait that long before I shared. I’ve never been good at that kind of stuff. I ruin surprises all the time. Anyway…!
Friends, some more good stuff is coming… Still working on that move to Florida. As I type this, I am in Starbucks in exile from our home due to three showings today. A contract is coming–I can feel it. Additionally, more creative stuff is coming. I am in the process of putting together another blog, which will be co-authored with a very dear friend. It’s a fusion of both of our talents and it’s going to be amazing. We’re hoping it may open some new doors for the both of us. I can’t wait to share it with y’all when it’s ready.