Open Letter to my Ex...

I've been thinking a lot about you the last few days...wondering how you are doing, are you happy? I know you are in another relationship, and I do hope that things are going very well for you. Do you ever think about me and if you do...is anything positive? Most of my thoughts about you, have been pretty minimal really...I've seen you a few times at derby bouts but ignore you. I think at those times, my heart skips a beat and I want to say hi, but I don't. I have no thoughts about being together, but I do miss your friendship and certain aspects of you. But I know that you have moved on, and so have I, yet I feel the need to post this letter...you still have me blocked on Facebook so you probably will never read this, but when my heart tells me something...I listen. That was after all one of the things you once loved about me.

I have for a very long time (since you broke up with me) blamed Flash for killing our relationship. It was never the same after that incident...after trust faltered and sides had to be taken. I don't know what exactly happened, I just know that we never found the love after that. I'm not sure if she meant to cause so much pain, but I never really forgave either one of us or the situation it created. So much changed...and never recovered.

Then I blamed you because you took her side. It quietly but constantly ate at me. I became bitter and it rotted parts of my heart to the point that I couldn't love you the same as I once did. I blamed your choice for staying in the same home as your wife that you were still married to, but separated from. I was angry that I couldn't feel comfortable in your home and that I couldn't step out of my comfort zone to try something new. I'm not sure what happened but I slowly started giving you up and I placed the blame on you for your choices.

But I have realized that the person who is to blame is me. Yes, there were things that took place that created obstacles, but I made poor choices and was a total ass to you. In fact I was the worst kind of asshole to you...I broke your heart slowly, making you take control of the destruction of our love. I refused to just let you go, and made you go crazy with my inability to be responsible. I was angry that you broke up with me via text...but I understand why you did. I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. I was horrible to you. I hurt you more than you could have ever deserved, slowly driving you away but still hanging on so I didn't feel like the bad guy.

But I was the bad guy.

It was me, not you.

I was careless with your love...your heart...your mind. You deserved better.

No amount of sorries could take away the shitty things I put you through. But I want you to know that I am taking responsibility for my behavior. I was a horrible girlfriend to you in the end, but hopefully before I became an ugly human being...hopefully there was something good that came from us. No matter how small, I hope there is something positive that I left in your heart.

Lisa...I am incredibly sorry for all I did and didn't do to push us apart. I forced you into a horribly difficult position and hurt you more than I probably even know. I have learned that I was not ready for your love...your life...you. I was selfish, ignorant and took for granted all that you had to offer. I think fondly of you, and hope the best for you in every way. I was a dick. Plain and simple, and I should be publicly shamed for how shitty I was to you. I won't ask for your forgiveness, I don't deserve it.

Since I can't apologize in person or in any other way...this letter is all I have to offer.

I still love you, and I thank you for loving me the way you did. For a brief moment in time I knew what it felt to be loved with all of ones heart and soul. It felt amazing and I miss it. Thank you for that. Thank you for everything.

I am incredibly sorry.

GET UP (Ode to Red, Inky, and SP)

A couple years ago at the 2^nd annual Bombercon in Okanogan County, I had the opportunity to meet some wonderful people who as it turns out have become very dear friends of mine. To say that derby has transformed my life would be an understatement; it’s more like derby has made my life more complete.  I go places I normally would never travel to, spend time with people I likely wouldn’t socialize with in general society simply because our paths wouldn’t cross or for the purposes of this entry…they live in the great white North, or to put it simply…Canada. A place that just so happens has almost become like a second home.

This entry is dedicated to the wonderful Canadians who have enriched my life, ones who I’ve just become friends with and those I’ve known for several years. Most importantly my dear friends Red Sonja, Inkshot and Skatepark with the latter two being new members of a very wonderful crew of people, the Terminal City All Stars out of Vancouver B.C. I’ve been fairly close to the TCRG All Stars for the last 2-3 years and cannot express how much I adore that team…those quirky Canadians. And words cannot express how happy, proud, thrilled and overjoyed I am that three skaters I met several years ago, just learning to make good plow stops, jump over apexes and work on mastering foot agility have eclipsed anything I could have ever dreamed of doing and are now members of such an amazing and elite all star team. Yeah, I could be a bit bias, but I see a lot of things…I observe so much more than people think I do. I may be just a photographer but I understand the game, the skills required to do the amazing things on and off the track that all add up to making a skater an athlete. As an NSO I watched year in and year out the evolution of skaters from Bambi’s on ice to super skaters doing things with their bodies that defy logic. And while I no longer NSO, I spend almost as much time watching skaters, studying their movements, learning their favorite moves and preferences on the track so that I can become a better photographer…all of which means I still watch skaters progress…change…evolve.

So to Red Sonja, who made the TCRG All Star team last year I say this…remember this?

And to InkShot and Skatepark who made the TCRG All Star team this year…remember this?

Ultimately we are what we make ourselves into…work hard, believe in yourself and stick to it if it’s important to you. You don’t just wake up one morning with the passion to become more than you are…it comes from failure, tears, pain and determination. And while it sounds and probably is less dramatic, becoming a better photographer is much the same. I see my failures, the “damn I missed that shot,” the blurry lines, the missed moments, the photos from other photographers that I wish I could do and it all feeds my passion to be better, to do better…and while there is no all star team for me as a photographer to graduate to, I still reach higher and demand more from myself.

What’s the old adage? Fall down 7 times, get up 8.

No matter your struggle. No matter your passion. No matter how many times that blocker hits you to the track surface. No matter what…get up.

GET UP!

Leaked Policies and my child.

Recent "leaked policies" from my church have created an uproar among the GLBTQ members as well as the more progressive members who embrace those of us that the church has clearly cast out. Essentially the new rules stipulate that children of parents in gay or lesbian relationships — be it marriage or just living together — can no longer receive blessings as infants, be baptized when they are about 8 years old, or serve mission as young adults unless they:

• Disavow the practice of same-sex relationships.
• Turn 18 and no longer live with gay parents.
• Get approval from their local leader and the highest leaders at church headquarters in Salt Lake City.

The church views these key milestones as acts that bind a person to the faith and as promises to follow its doctrine. 

So what I hear is, it's okay to be gay as long as you don't share your life or love with someone of the same gender. It's okay to be gay as long as you remain celibate, single and don't have a child. It's okay to be gay as long as you realize that publicly the church will support you and love you, but privately condemn you, shame you and think of you with disdain. 

The church has taken away my relationship with God. The church has taken away my belief that I can be a good person. The church has taken away my right to be in the temple...to get married...to be sealed to my family...but that wasn't enough. Now the church takes away my eternal love and happiness of being with my family, taken my future and has the power to erase me from existence. (excommunication) While some believed the church was "coming around" to the acceptance of GLBTQ members, I never believed it. I've read the early works of the prophets and the disciples as well as the early journals and articles comparing homosexuality to the three unforgivable sins.

1. Adultery

2. Murder

3. Denial of the Holy Spirit

So while I am shocked by this new policy, I am not surprised. The church has taken so much from me, and now...the church has taken away any chance of meeting Trent. I don't speak of him hardly at all anymore, but a little over 25 years ago I saw my little boy. He came to me in a dream, I held him after he was born, he stopped crying when he heard my voice. With little light brown swirls for hair, and the most perfect of faces and his skin so warm and soft. He was mine, my little boy. But now, the church has taken him away from me. All because I can't help who I love. I can't even be a single, celibate member and not have him fall into this new policy. 

I can't change who I am. I have tried believe me. I've prayed endlessly to have this "burden" removed from my shoulders. But I saw what my life would be like in the pre existence and I agreed to it all, I agreed to the child abuse...the molestations...the attempted rape...the learning disabilities...the depression...the suicide attempts...being gay. I can live with being single, I can live with being held accountable for my sins...but to burden the children...to punish the children for living in a loving family all because of who their parents love.

I would hope that Christ disapproves of this new policy. I am so lonely...just one of the rejected members of a church that flows through my veins. 

Sigh. 

So to my dear Trent who has been waiting to be born, I'm sorry that my life has caused yours not to exist. I am sorry that the way God made me, keeps you from me. 

I'm sorry. And I love you...I've always loved you. I will always love you. I pray you forgive me and my sin. 

Dear, New Westminster

I was having trouble sleeping, the beds in Canada always seem so much more firm than the beds in the states. Since I visit so often, I have come to expect it and no longer find it a shock to my system. This is the first time I have stayed in New Westminster...and possibly the most lovely of spots to have decided on for my weekend of derby. I'm staying at the Inn at the Quay, an odd looking building but nicely kept, quiet and close to everything it seems. I slept with the balcony door open, but since I'm awake I decided to sit outside for a little while. New Westminster is still sleeping, but the sun will soon rise. From my relaxed position on the seat I can see the tug boats lined up and moored waiting for their assignments. I can hear the "fwap fwap" of the pigeons wings and every now and then I hear the quiet cooing as they cuddle up together in the morning air. In the background I hear the stead drip of gathered rain, the occasional seagull yelling that it's time to wake up...



I get lost in thought until there's a whirring noise that takes my attention...it's the sky train a block away pulling into New West Station. In about four minutes I will see it again as it climbs and crosses the bridge spanning the Fraser River. The suns rays are finally breaking over the mountains to the East of me, beautifully framing this little oasis that is mine for two days. The boardwalk that was bustling with energy and activity last night, is empty now save it be a few runners getting their early morning workouts in. Something else grabs for my attention, it's the "pssshhh" of the brakes releasing their grip on the train by the market just below me.

There is just a slow drizzle going on, the air is crisp and clear...with a soft hint of the water way that meanders before me. Much like my thoughts...they meander and flow with little direction or urgency. I wonder to myself what this place looked like before all the people, all the buildings, before the busy and hectic world took over...how must it have looked and sounded. Could any of the early settlers even begin to imagine the way the world is now? Would they like it? Would they make any changes?

I can feel the warmth of the suns rays quietly brushing along my skin, I look up to see the most beautiful sight...New Westminster, you have touched my soul, whispering to me, gently calling my name and I thank you for this brief moment in time where everything outside of this moment has faded away.

Thank you. <3 p="">

Karma is that you?

So the oddest things happened to me at the Hitditch Cup a few Saturdays ago. It started out simply enough, just another bout day…watching amazing athletes skate left. But as I was getting my camera all calibrated for the lighting and whatnot, things went…well, they went weird. This is the part I ask patience with so I can give you a little back story before the current situation that I’m writing about. See, when my derby life was still quite new I was hanging out with a bunch of girls that were way more established in the local leagues than I was and I tried to befriend them. But there was one girl specifically that for whatever reason took exception to me. And without having to bring up all the heartache and shit that goes along with this story let’s just say she made my life hell. She spread lies about me to anyone and everyone that would listen to her and because I didn’t havecredibility with the local “scene” many people believed her. Some didn’t, and they stayed my friends…some of them are my friends to this day. But there was a lot of damage done to me because of this one girl and her many lies. Fast forward to theHitditch Cup…this girl was there warming up to skate and she skated over to me like we were old friends. I was startled because this girl and I pass each other often now that I do photography for the league and for the most part we avoid each other, which is fine with me. But she comes up to me and proceeds to tell me that she has been meaning to talk to me…

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for the things I did and said in reference to you a couple years ago. I thought I knew what I was talking about but it turns out I didn’t and I got involved with things thinking I knew what was going on, and I’ve realized I didn’t. So, I’m sorry.”

I simply said “okay, thank you.”

Then at the end of the bout someone I once considered a good friend who a couple months ago just up and unfriended mewithout a word, and basically stopped talking to me all together asked if she could talk to me before I left. So she pulled me into the kitchen at the nest and tells me…

“I know you messaged me after I unfriended you asking what it was you did and that you wanted to talk to me about it, but I needed to tell you that I just couldn’t talk to you. I was in a bad space and just couldn’t handle arguing and so the way I dealt with it was to just avoid you. But I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, I should have just talked to you. I got offended by a statement you made on facebook and it confused me because I thought you liked all of us and so I just backed away. Yes, I should have got clarification from you instead of just assuming I knew what you meant. I didn’t and it was my mistake and I’msorry that I was jerk. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I simply said “okay, thank you.”

I’m not sure why they apologized…if it’s legit or just a game. I don’t know if they did it because I take photos of them and they somehow want to increase their odds of being shot or if they indeed are sorry for the hurt they caused. In the first instance it would be great if that girl would make a public apology to the leagues and other women that she spread lies to. As for the second girl…I’m still not sure what to say or think.

Derby Masters

In 2010 when my old, humdrum life ceased to be and my derby filled life began I had no idea the sport would change my life as much as it has. Maybe not the sport on its own merit but the people who the sport has brought into my life would be a more accurate statement to make.  The derby world is really a microcosm of real life, it is subject to bullies, abusers, lovers, family, friends, jocks, gossipers, supporters etc. The major difference is that in one form or another all of those who are in derby…would for the most part be located on the outcast spectrum of individuals. So eloquently presented to me byKendle as “nerds, those who are socially awkward and misfits.”With that being said, I’ve never been so happy to belong to a subset of people. In the event anyone is wondering what any of this has to do with anything…I’m not really sure. When I sit down to type a blog post I don’t usually have a topic in mind or a direction to go. I let the words appear and I follow them. Sometimes the post turns into something horribly painful, but sometimes it turns into joy or an “ah ha” moment. I guess today’s post has yet to discover its purpose, and I’m okay with that.

So back to what I started with…in 2010 I remember pouring through album after album that was published by the masters in derby photography. The amazing works of Jules, Joe, Bob, Nicholas, Danny, Jenny, Frank and so many others. They were all at the head of the pack (pun intended) capturing wonderful derby moves and people in a moment of time that would forever be envied and looked to with awe and inspiration. To me, they were modern day Picasso’s, Michael Angelo’s or Salvador Dali’s. What Ansel Adams did with Half Dome they did with derby…capturing a thought, an emotion, a moment in time that would never be quite the same. As a side note, I didn’t originally plan to try and be a photographer in derby…I wanted to skate. My dream was to be a pivot, to control the pack, to make walls that would be impossible to get by. To support my jammer, make creases to free them from the pack…I wanted to play. I tried…but easily gave up on that dream because this body of mine…it don’t skate.

I messed around doing photography on my piddly Canon Xti and oh how horribly awful those photos were. But something stirred within me…and little by little I listened to the small voice inside me that was guiding me to do and be more than a girl who couldn’t skate. I worked hard and became a pretty darn good Non Skating Official but I wasn’t satisfied with that. So I consulted some of the fine artists of my day about my love of photography…Frank let me borrow his camera and lens a couple times…and that small voice turned into a scream. More words of support and guidance came from Bob and Jenny, then Danny …I started renting cameras and lenses for derby tournaments…and the scream got louder. I worked and struggled to get better…but still felt so far away from the quality that the masters make look so easy.

If anyone were to ask how I feel about my photography, you would get much the same answer as I gave 5 years ago. I would hem and haw, shift my weight back and forth, kick at the floor or dirt and tell you all the things that I see wrong with my photos. Yes, there are some that I think to myself…what do you know, that doesn’t look so bad. Nice. But my cruel reality is that I am still so amazingly far away from the quality of the greats. I am still so much…an amateur. I work almost daily, just like the derby athletes that I capture…to get better, hone my skills, get my mind to wrap around the intricate details of certain movements, lighting adjustments…always learning how to make things less blurry and more focused.  While I do feel I have made progress, I only see how very far I have yet to go.

I never in my wildest dreams could have ever thought I would be doing all the photography that I am currently involved in. I mean, seriously…I am no Jules Doyle. I am no Danny Ngan. I am just…me. But despite my feelings of unworthiness, this season I have found myself in an odd situation. I shoot derby for two leagues…two amazingly talented leagues. I’m friends with many of the greats that I had once and do continue to think the world of. Where once I was sitting in the cheap seats at Key Arena watching the photographers scramble around and take pictures…thinking to myself how amazingly awesome that must be…I have now had the chance to be on the floor with the skaters and other photographers. And while everyone’s attention was focused on the athletes (as it should be) I quietly had my dreams come true.  Being behind the scenes, in the depths of Key Arena watching the athletes get their game faces on, pump each other up and experience their joy at being part of a great team. It was a surreal feeling standing in the hallways, being with the athletes and now actually being friends with some…I can’t accurately explain to you the joy that fills my heart.

I was talking with James at the Nest a week or so ago about my nagging feelings that I will never be as good as Jules, Joe etc.He quickly made fun of me because here I was complaining about all the things I see wrong with my photography yet, just had two of my photos make it onto a poster and one onto a billboard in Oregon. (I’d have made fun of myself too when you put that way.) And he said something that has really stuck with me, “they had their time and we saw their work. Now it’s your time to share your work. Your work is a stand alone, if they wanted Jules or Joe, they would be here. But it’s your time now. Stop trying to be like them. Be you.”

I wonder if Picasso or Ansel Adams looked at their work and thought “meh.”

2010-2012

2013-2014

2015

I still see so much that needs to be better.

The Reality Is...

I’ve been staring at this blank page for what feels like an hour…just watching the cursor blink, almost like it’s mocking me…daring me to make it move. Minutes go by and I realize I’ve just been lost in empty thought, looking right through the keyboard in a state of numbness. It’s times like this that I remember sitting in Chemistry class learning about atoms and how they make things into…well, things. That nothing is really real, the keyboard is nothing more than atoms that have come together to make it look like a keyboard. Then my mind drifts further back to my Philosophy class where I learned that nothing is as it seems, logic has no basis in arguments and the world was formed out of the illusions presented by circular arguments…that life as we know it may all be a lie. I remember the notion of there really never being a landing on the moon and how it blew my mind. But when the professor broke down the details, I honestly couldn’t believe anything anymore. I wasn’t alive back then, I did not see it, I was not there…for all I know the Red Hot Chili Peppers got it right when they sang “space may be the final frontier but it’s made in a Hollywood basement.”

It has been a struggle the last few weeks to walk around and appear like a normal, fully functioning adult. I have felt like a liar to the world with every “hi how are you doing, oh me…I’m good, thanks.” That’s one odd thing about human interactions…to ask how someone is doing without really wanting to stop and talk about it. Have you kept track of how many times in one day you ask how someone’s day is going, or are asked about your day? And out of all those times…how many did you actually mean?

I have always tried to live my life with just a few hard and fast rules:

1.

Promises are made to keep.

2.

Tell the truth.

3.

Treat others how you want to be treated.

4.

Say what you mean, mean what you say.

5.

Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.

I would like to think those simple rules have kept me out of a lot of trouble, and have made me a better person. Yes, I have broken them all at one point or another but I work hard to use them as daily guides. So you see, when I’m asked how I’m doing…or when people check in on me after the Seattle thing…I answer with what I think you want to hear. Because I know or at least think I know that you really don’t want to sit and hear about my nightmares…my anxiety…my fear. You want me to be good, so that’s what I tell you.

But I’m not.

I will be. In time.

I feel guilty for lying to you…even though I know it’s probably for the best to keep my answer short and easy.

So I guess the purpose of this entry is to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened, sorry for not being stronger, sorry for lying and saying I’m good.