I haven't seen her this happy in years. She is radiating joy. She is nearly 40 and still wrinkle-free. I, on the other hand, am developing an unpleasant "scowl" line between my brows. Not so much from scowling, but from thinking hard. At least I hope it's from thinking. Maybe I'm deluding myself.
Michael and I both noticed her radiance this weekend. I know she was marinating in the thrill of meeting our long-lost brother and his family. I also know that for the first time in years, she has really been listening to her Self. She has spent so much time in denial, repressing, stuffing, ignoring what her inner voice has been murmuring all along. The artist has erupted in a series of sketches, drawings, paintings, and scribbles. The writer has been writing nearly every day in a journal and online.
It is a joy and relief to me to see her blooming. She is allowing herself to express what she is thinking and feeling. She is finally letting herself out of the dark little box she had locked herself into, in order to fulfill some crazy expectations and obligations she herself had created.
I loved photographing her this weekend in San Diego and only wish I had taken more photos to capture this exploding, whirling, voracious joy I see in her face. She has never been so beautiful. Or so inspiring.
