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unfuck.ed.

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The other day I did a long shot of ‘the house I’d been waiting to photograph for like 5-6 years, and decided that that day was the day’ … yeah, well this is the same house, just up closer.

Why?

You’ll see :)

I spoke with my daughter last night. Not a nice conversation really … one of those gutt wrenching fuck with your sleep kinda talks. But this is how I chose to be as a parent … open and fucking honest. It goes both ways … I’ll be as brutally honest as I can, and I expect them to be brutally honest with Me.

Well my girl had grievances about my parenting. *groan*. Yah know its so much easier to have a standard that you don’t have to apply to yourself …

Any way …

My girl is a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ I guess. As in, her sister had vented and vexed most of her frustrations at Me by the time she was 18. My youngest is nearly 25 and she’s only dripped out a few morsels over the past 5 or so years but not too much … until last night. Yep, she had grievances … and they were all founded … all real … all horrible to hear …

What ripped my shit the most was hearing the pain in her voice as she cried. I hate hearing her hurt.

But I listened … and listened … and I wanted to justify myself … give the reasons for being a cunt of a person back then … but I listened, cos I knew she needed to be heard. And when she was done I didn’t apologise, or give justification and told her why I wasn’t giving either of those things … that she was right. That No parent including my blelf, was perfect and that if I could change my ‘mistakes’ or do better, I would … but it is what it is … and it was no slight on Her as a person … just Me, an adult, being a dick.

She got it and I know she felt relieved for being able to vent and be heard.

I felt better for her … but came away feeling like shit lol.

Oh the shit we go through … I would love to be able to say I did everything right … and that everything I experienced was just peachy too … but that aint the truth. It just seems that the older I get, the more I understand that there is No right way to Life … Not at all.

We’re all running around trying to minimise the damage somehow … when in all reality, sometimes theres beauty and growth in the damage. Not that I’m wishing for damage, for anyone … but we all call this shit ‘damage’, we see that shit as ‘being damaged’ … when really … it just is what it is.

Like this house :)

Would I clean it up if I could? No … cos then the photograph wouldn’t have that ‘thing’ to it that I like. Some would see ‘damage’ … I see worn, lived in, loved.

<3


kpm ©


 

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eulogy for my undies

ode to the undies

that have held

everything

in place ~

that have comforted

and hugged

the ass cheeks

on a long winters night ~

that have been the forever

faithfuls

the ‘go toos’

the reliables.

May you rest in peace,

albeit,

pieces.

 

They are to be

cremated …

this evening

sigh.image_______________________________________________

kpm ©


 

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family, is all there is really

Well, its been an awesome weekend with the mokos and daughters and partners of and the partner and the neph and my mama.

They all came…to help us say goodbye to the house…to help the mokos say goodbye to the house…to see where we would be going…

And we laughed and ate and slept and sang and ate some more…drank plenty of delicious coffee and ate some more.

It was beautiful…

And I remembered…

That this is what home is about…the people that your surrounded with…the love that comes form those people…and the love that you give back to them.

In the next house…those same people…my family…will still come…with all their laughter and tears and screaming and eating…they’ll continue to take up space on my couch and throw all their washing in my washing basket…even though they don’t live here. They’ll still come and create dishes and argue and sing and eat all the food…they’ll share memories with me…I’ll share memories with them.

We’ll love and laugh and eat…wherever we are :)

I love them…all of them

xxoo


kpm©


 

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photographic art: [processing & ‘saying goodbye’]

Our first beach home.

Saying goodbye is hard.

But it’s been such a beautiful place

To rest; recuperate.

I wish we could stay,

but I have a feeling

that better things are waiting.

And every moment spent

In this beautiful space,

I am grateful for.

I appreciate.

Every family moment,

Every laugh, and every tear;

I am grateful for.

Without this,

I wouldn’t know how to love the next.

Without all this;

I’d forget why I’m here in the first place.

I guess everything has it’s purpose.

And has it’s time.

And this did.

Have its purpose and time, I mean ;)

And the memories …

They’re mine to keep.

To add to my ‘nice dreams’

repertoire.

To remember what I like,

and why I like it.

Time to move On

<3


This was when we left our first house @ the beach. I was absolutely pts(d) ridden (anxiety-wise) and stressed as fuck. I was trying to calm the proverbial farm and get on with it but it was fucking hard.

I guess this is sort of where my affair with photography ‘speaking for me’, or expressing emotionally, what I couldn’t verbally / physically, started to happen more.


kpm ©


 

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