Autumn things & thoughts

November 8, 2012

A bristly hush, hush whispers in the trees outside.  The tree limbs shake furiously.  I hear it through the cracked open door.  Golden glints bounce on the leaves that lay lazily on the ground.  My Nana's favorite artist is playing right now and it makes me laugh: there is such a nice constancy in music; it never gets really too old to listen to.  It's dreadfully nice, all of this, and it makes me want to believe that this moment will go on and on.  But it won't.  It's such a soft moment, so dearly quiet.  I wish it didn't have to end.  I mean, I do want things to come, yet I don't want to face the loud, noisy, shaking world quite yet.  I want to revel in this sound, in this swinging music, in this quiet second.

My Nana's front porch brim full of plants | leftover wildflowers | a person I am lucky enough to call my brother, jumping off our cattle trailer | yellow leaves and gold sunlight | sunflares | old furniture | cattle panels graced with dead vines | fall leaves | a speck o' red |

That was written this afternoon.  I just came back to edit it.  Now I kinda wish I had the heart to erase it all and start over.  For no reason in particular, I just want to delete it.  I have been going through a bunch of troubles that mostly concern me and my writing and honesty.  I promised myself that I would never jot down anything I didn't mean.  And for me, that has never become an issue.  It's when I won't say all that I mean.  I can write nice words and pat myself on the back and say I'm a good writer, but I know I'm not because my words are only glimpses of the huge things that play before my mind's eye.  I have found myself desperately writing more and more and losing interest in the value of my words.  I can join everyone and say how much I love staring at the stars, eating nutella, skyping, wearing armwarmers and such.  That's all fine and dandy.  I love all of that stuff.  But why do I bother say it?  Why does it matter?  That's what hurts... it's knowing that my words weigh less and less as I invest into saying silly things that doesn't mean a thing to my soul.  I want my writings to be my soul in words.  And honestly, I've felt like each day I'm losing the grasp on my pen-- even though I write five times more than ever.

I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking and praying about it.  It's really the only thing left to do, I suppose.  What do y'all do when you get stuck like this?  Cheers to this jumbled week of an autumn week.  My life is starting to look like a pile of leaves, I think.


  1. Beautiful, Gabby! <3
    I enjoy your writing very, very much. Your posts never disappoint.
    I get stuck with my writing quite often, and although I love to write, I feel that I am no good at it. (sad isn't it?)
    But I keep writing nevertheless. That's all I can do. Until I get as great as I want to be.

    Wonderful photos, wonderful words.

    Many blessings,

  2. this post is so refreshing :) it's so true to everyone, such a good reminder for me at this point in my life. thank you so much for sharing this, and i'll be praying with you, gabby!
    (the photos in this are absolutely stunning, too. i couldn't pick a favorite :)

  3. Gabby, dear, I always enjoy reading your honest posts. You aren't afraid to admit that you like the "popular" things but that isn't all there is to you.
    Keep writing, darling. You bless people with what you do.


  4. LOVE the 3rd picture; everyone is abandoning ship, even the cat! =D
    I know what you mean; once I started looking at more blogs I found that almost everyone had "sweet followers, sweet notes, sweet comments, sweet friends" I mean, those are true most of the time but they lose their meaning after being repeated so many times and becoming generic.
    I want to be unique and not "oh, another Christian photographer that plays piano and LOVES jean skirts" I do, but that need't be my focus...I don't think I've quite found an answer either, but getting closer.
    I'm really glad you shared this. =)