Page Views

I just looked at my page views, and I wondered, "is 687 counting my own eyes staring at my blog, judging, caressing, and mastering my own words? Or is 687 a whole bunch of interesting people coming to rest in a bunch of honesty??" I'm not sure which it is, but as I've learned in the past few months, years...it isn't about quantity or how much the public enjoys things you do, it's all in the quality and what God "thinks" of it.

I did a lot of things in the past few days. I've auditioned for another show and NOT gotten the part. I've modeled for Laura Tanzer again, set up some more modeling for Jodi Henderson and Inner Tie, gone in and gotten new shoes at J. Gilbert, visited Bean as she heals from being hit by a bike >O, worked, and other such things I'm sure. I feel as if there's a lot of movement in small ways and I'm happy to be a part of the wave. I've looked at my body and noticed the weight that it's taking on, and it feels comfortable, real, honest, loving, and different. It was hard this morning to accept my thighs and my stomach as they grow horizontally, but I got through it by saying, "This is what being present in your growth looks like. It doesn't need to look like anyone else's stuff, it can just be yours, different. Your love is growing, and that is good."

I'm going to enter a writing contest about what France means to me...I need to narrow it down! I've only ever thought of it as something that has kept my heart beating, my hope alive, my eyes seeking out beauty, my soul continuing to search for warmth and love, my stomach continuing to ask for more, my mind following the greats and the not so greats into their own lairs, my fingers continuing to tap across the keyboard, looking at the lives of others and therefore envisioning my own here, in a better, bigger, more beautiful way. It has done for me what the very cockels of my heart have desired, and I wish to express this. I don't know what the juxtaposition should be, what I can compare it to, France, my France. It is a personal gem, something one holds close like the hand of a loved one.

I want to write this from the bottom of my heart, the very pith of my experience with France and French. I want to express the truest sense of my relationship with this city and the people, without censoring myself in any way. I want to be able to look at the piece of art I write, and see myself, bigger thighs and all, and accept it wholeheartedly, loving my own essence in this form.

May it be so.