#megfee

[note-to-shelf]

25/08/18. (01:01) Day 236. Starry Night. '...200 years ago a man by the name of Vincent wrote in a letter to his brother: "What I am in the eyes of most people - a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person- somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right then - even if that were absolutely true, then I should like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart." He then set brush to canvas and made this thing - this perfect, incredible, indelible thing - that in a dark museum hundreds of years later group after group will gather in front of in silent awe. He was a man who surely wrestled with the fear that he was not enough. And who from a blank canvas wrested the divine. I cry standing in front of it because beauty and love are their own dark arts, and humanity never ceases to surprise me.' - @meg_fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[sarahlouvstheworld]

“The dislike and discomfort. The loneliness and wanderlust. The snippets of love I feel for this corner, this home. The in between-ness of this time in my life. Because I know it will pass. I know this time, too, is sacred and important. I am changing now, becoming the grown-up version of myself. But oh, how the pushes and pulls make me sick to my stomach. But again there comes that call — that push: remember this. Remember this. That’s the great comfort: all things pass. Sadness and loneliness. Seasons of our life and slivers of time. And happiness too. And it cycles back only to move on again.” - Meg Fee . . . . #wordsofwomen #megfee #growth #quote

[keelantoldmeto]

Home and its many gradations. And I go in search of it. Again and again and again. Forged as much by what I find, as the search itself.

megfee.com

[socialsurvival]

Quietly and softly carve out a life on your own terms. Stop apologizing. Forgive that sometimes things take a while. Forgive the low-level, near-constant fear. Celebrate the small successes. Perhaps joy is its own body of water, wade out into it.

-Meg Fee. Lord, this woman's writing is a gift to read.

[sagesblog]

"I'm making a list of soft things so I don't go mad. This is what I wait for. Gray light before the sun rises. Waking up at the lake. Musty smoke from a campfire thick in your hair, on your skin, shaken from your sweater. Earth under your fingers. Green things growing. The sound of blueberry pancakes sizzling, crackling in a buttered skillet. Laughter, when you are incandescently happy. Finding a relic. Freckles. Grilled peaches and sweet corn and watermelon juices running down your skin. Light falling through tress on a pathway empty of anyone but you. Hearing the waves. Waking to a quiet house. Coffee stains. Lipstick marks on a cup. Your spot. Being recognized. Shadows. Alignment, like stars, alignment like sacred. Wonder and thinking you are something bigger and I don't know, that somehow it will be alright. Being okay. Eating all the raspberries from the patch and going through the day with red fingers. Belief an iron rod in your spine. Someone's touch on your hand, a someone who might be more than an anybody, a someone who might be a somebody, who might be yours. Beginnings. Not endings. Maybe endings sometime. Words like honeysuckle and diaphanous. Smells stirring a memory deep in your mind like a stick in thick muddy banks, stirring up the water. Mud under your toes and you are five. Clear water. Green water. Blue water. Gray water more light than liquid. Sitting on the front of the boat and closing your eyes to the spray on sunburnt skin. A perfect song. An imperfect memory. Fragments. Muscles and sinews. Hearing someone hum. Watching a time happen and thinking, I will remember this." | Hannah Nicole

[socialsurvival]

With conviction, perspective and grace, you inspire me, Meg.

"Do the hard things. Adapt. Go again. Admit fault. Do the hard things you don’t think you can do. Prove yourself wrong. Believe in your own worth. Wear heels. Criticize only insofar as you are invested in helping the person change. Reframe your idea of failure. Throw kindness around like confetti. Do that very terrifying thing that will inch your life forward. Try. Try again. Forgive. Send the email. Trust in a bigger something. Send the book, gift the cookies, bake the cake. Write, write, write. Chip, chip, chip away at the immovable stone. Go to Paris. And when given the chance, saber the champagne." -The amazing Meg Fee @andnobodyknowsmyname

[torino-captured]

That wanting is beautiful. As is needing. As is grief and hope and heartbreak. That to live life well is to walk away with a mess on one's hands. Dirt and earth and fresh berries and love. And to give kindness away, hard as that often is, hurt as we may be. Oh yeah, and this: If you can't sign your name to what you have to say, well then you don't actually get to say it. Because that's the thing about Oz, he's just a small man behind a heavy curtain.

Some beautiful words by the amazing Megfee 

[keelantoldmeto]

Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost.

Kahil Gibran