A letter of thanks to Kiqe Bosch

©Kiqe Bosch 2014

There may be nothing as inspiring as seeing an image so powerful your breathe is stolen for a moment. As your eyes take in the image your soul weeps, with joy and sorrow. You can see the pain and strife, but also the will and force of this being in front of you. Tears come to your eyes as you take in the beauty in front of you. Time stops for a moment, you dare not question her story, you see it there plain as day. You see the strength that almost never was.

There may be nothing more terrifying than the moment when you realize that this image in front of you, this strange being of beauty and power, is you.

Words fail to describe the emotions I felt as I looked upon this image for the first time. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend that this was me, my body, my heart, my soul. Yet there I was, and I could scarcely believe. I’ve spent hours stringing words together always coming up short of what I wanted to say. How could I ever express properly what a gift Kiqe has given to me?

Terrifying                                                                                                  

Humbling                                                                                  

Sorrowful                                                                               

Powerful

Lonely

Beautiful

Joyful

What a gift I have been given, to see myself through the eyes of another.

Not as the broken girl, the damaged girl. Not as the strange one, the one who has no hope. Not as the one who could do no right, not the girl who deserved no love. This is not the unwanted daughter, not the desired first borne son. This is not the girl who surrendered.

She is all of it.  She is the pain and suffering, the product of damage and abuse. She is her scars, worn proudly for the world to see if they only dare look.

She is strength and survival, acceptance and forgiveness. She is more than what you see.

Kiqes photos have never ceased to amaze me. He does not take pictures of bodies. He captures moments where souls are true and free. He finds our truths and sets them free. Kiqe sees people, and he shows us ourselves.

What greater gift could we ever receive?

Thank you Kiqe, with all my soul

Isabella Rose

Morning moments as time flies swiftly by

It's amazing what you think about when something is about to come to a close. Because really what I find is that, even up the last minute of the hour it doesn't seem real. I could spend the entire day packing and cleaning, but until that moment, as you are watching a place disappear into the distance. Well it's just not real. It still feels like this will all last forever. Which as we know of course it does not, but the feelings that get all wrapped up in the moment.

Now don't get me wrong, I know everything changes (obviously as I can't seem to stay in one place for more than a few months) and know everything ends. The thing is, when that becomes real. For example, today. Today we disassemble the dance floor and tent (woot! Cinder blocks, top hats  and doilies, tent states  and the tent and we. And don't forget all of the wooden shims) oh and the kitchen as well. So many things, all of the nights. But as I am sitting here, the reality just won't hit me. I know that in 48 hours will be back in Boston (hopefully asleep) and soon to be heading to Flurry, providing the weather doesn't impact all of these plans, but really who knows. (As I am sure you can imagine all of these feelings are based on my actually making it to boston without any of my flights getting cancelled.)

So mostly this is just me here, rambling about the things I think about, such as the strangeness in life and how this is a feeling I am so use to and don't even mind. Just another set of feelings to catalogue and examine, it happened leaving England, Ann Arbor, Ireland, Brasstown, Pinewoods, Boston. And I know it will continue as that is just the way life is

Tent Adventure!

So here we are, in St Criox, preparing for a yoga retreat and dance vacation. And we have built a floor and created a stage and put up a tent (not nessisarilty in that order)
But alas sometimes unexpected moments happen, such as this 

So as you might be able to guess we just had to do something, really it wasn't a choice. 

We got a ladder rigged so we could get up to the problem area

 Getting a closer look we were able to see that one of the straps that holds the bucket (the bit that the top of the tent pole sits in) had come undone, once we got the tent pole down (as it has to come down before it could go back up!) we were able to see that the top of the pole had developed a sharp edge and had almost sawed thru the strap holding the buck. Oh dear, oh dear. 

But back to what I was saying!

So repairs, right? And Repair we did

By climbing up the latter and sewing a patch strip onto the problem area, while the tent it being stabilized by two people with ropes down below (if you ask me later I will describe it better)

So that was fun and exciting, woot very tall ladders! 

Ad then the tnts was fixed, Huzzuh!!!

So maybe no more tent disasters...

P.s. Photo credit to Shawn Brenneman, she took all the photos and is just generally awesome 

So an actual update in January

Ok so I may have left the mainland....

Huzzah is really what I have to say about it, St.Croix is (yep I'm going to say it) magic. And I know that so much of that has to be with being in a place that I am not familiar with and that I love being in places where everything is green and growing and alive and warm. So I am quite happy. I arrived yesterday and have already had some awesome adventures. Such as walking to 2 different beaches already. Warm sand on your feet and the sun over head, so so good. And just staying is the ocean until you turn into a prune enjoying the waves. Being able to sit in the sun (I already have so many more freckles that I did last week) and just listen to the wind ands rare out into the distance watching the water :)

Maybe my kind is too spinny to say much more about it, but if you ever can visit (and you can it is not as difficult as you think!) you really really should

Disclaimer take 2

Alright here we are again, I saw that my previous disclaimer got deleted somehow, most likley my fault. Oh well.
So here is is again, I'm attempting a blog like thing of (mostly) adventures of mine, it will possibly also have rants and other such things that I am prone to in my own mind. Oh so maybe I am sharing those things... See this is why I am posting a disclaimer.

I not making any promises, the writing may not be great (it might even be bad) who knows how I will be with updating (maybe sometimes a lot and maybe sometimes not at all... As the previous months have shown)

Part of why I am trying this blog like thing is because jthere are many people that I love keeping in contact with, and often people ask, "what have you been up to?" So I'm trying to make this a way of sharing, if I spent all of my tme emailing everyone my adventures I wouldn't have time to have them, and that would be sad. So this is once way of keeping in contact with the world, or at least my fraction of it.

I am of course sending out postcards and I not have so many people to send them too! Quite excited about this I must say.

So if you are still reading this then cool. maybe you'll be reading more sometime soon, so you should also know that sometimes I say things that are not perfectly correct and if you know me you know I never ever want or intend to hurt another soul in this world, but I have my opinions as we all do. So just in case don't Ever be offended by something I say and write, call me out on whatever you wish but know that we just all can't agree on every little thing all of the time, k?

Alright that's its for my disclaimer.

<3 Isabella Rose

Christa Patterson

So yea, if you didn't know my Gran died this past Wednesday in a an accident. It's almost funny how that is what was so amazingly shocking. At 76 years old you expect someone to pass because of age and health.  You expect the slow decay and to have some time to adjust to the idea (at least in theory, it will still always be a shock)
And I can see how some might struggle with this, but maybe it is better this way? I know my Gran and she would have hated to fade away slowly, losing herself. Bit by bit, day by day until she was a shell of who she once was. Barley recognizable as even a person. That was the hardest thing about my Great Grandmothers death. The was almost nothing left of Christine Helwig, at least that I could see. Some told me she would remember Ed (what a great love that must have been) and other small things from years far past gone. And I know that Gran would have hated that, and I don't think she would have wanted any of us to experience that for her, I don't think she would have wanted us to remember her that way, so is this better?
It's been an inspiration of thought about grieving and sadness when a loved one dies. Funny to think but while I understand the mourning of the dead it seems almost silly. Should we not celebrate the life she lived?  We cry for ourselves but maybe we should laugh for her. I think maybe she would like that (but then I could be wrong)

So pretty much, so many confusing feelings. So many questions that will never be answered, but isn't that always what happens when someone you know dies.


Keene Sentinel, Route 10 Crash

Rainy Day Musings

Funny how time gets away from you and while it may be said that it's too late
It never is.

It doesn't seem right to write about Pinewoods until I make some statements about my last (really) big adventure. So lets look back on April and May

The John C. Campbell Folk School

Just some recall, you know for the sentimental value.
Sometimes I think it's funny (and wonderful) how you can look back at something and remember everything wonderful and see the points of frustration and say, completely worth it.

Really it was amazing, if you want to do something different and have 9 weeks to spare, check it out (Folk School Work Study Link). Quick overview of how it works. First of all it's more of a work exchange than a work study. Mostly I got to work in the garden, so much weeding, moved a lot of mulch. You are housed in the top floor the of Main building and you get fed way more food than you could want. You work six weeks and take three weeks of class (dance, ceramics, wood turning, carving, blacksmithing, nature studies, the list goes on) you also get to jump into weekend courses that have space.

But the things that really stuck with me from the Folkschool-
~Riding in the back of a pickup truck at night watching the stars fly by while listening the the cold air rush by, cuddled up in the random warm items that were found to keep the chill at bay.
~Kitchen Junket and square dancing around the living room
~Pub night (joke night) and Campfires (uke, mandolin and singing)
~Using a Scythe for work, maybe not the most effective method but really, it can't be a bad day if you get to use a scythe at work
~Hanging out on the fire escape (the "work study deck") Playing and singing with The Emergency Exits our makeshift band
~Getting to drive a full sized pickup truck
~Riding around in the golf cart "always keep two wheels on the ground"
~The incredible people I met and knew while I was there
~Watching and photo recording a lady slipper blooming

This list could go on, but you get the idea