musings.

All content is my original work || Copyright © 2021 thebronzepotao. All rights reserved.

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[thebronzepotato]

You need some slumps so you can understand what it means to be happy. You're a kick-ass human. You can do it 💪

(and it's okay if it isn't today or tomorrow)

Thanks. I always appreciate words of encouragement, especially when I need it the most 🥲

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Slump

I’m in a slump. Trying to gracefully get myself out. Áyyyyy

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[thebronzepotato]

2021.01.30 - Musing

I’ve never considered myself a woman of the woods or mountains. Keep me far from snow, prickly trees, sticks, dirt, and creepy crawlies. 

Give me the salty breeze of the ocean. Let my pores feel fresh. Let my hair frizz. Let the sun’s beams leave me a little more melanated than before. Let me believe that walking on the sand exfoliates my lightly calloused feet. Let the birds fly over. Let my ears take in the symphony of seagulls, the waves, the unknown.

Water. There is something that’s both tantalizing and terrifying about it. Lay where the ocean and sand tumble. You’re grounded. Safe when a wave knocks you over. Knowing that as the water returns to the sea, it’s bound to come back and brush against the shore. You anticipate it. Out of control is miscalculating the wave’s patterns and getting tossed a little too early. It’s saltwater leaving a burning memory in your nostrils. It’s your hair and limbs flying in all directions. It’s the boisterous laugh when you realize what’s happened and look around to see if anyone noticed. 

Walk into the water. Go deeper and deeper. Give up power. Lose touch with the ocean bed. Realize the original contract is gone and you’re now at the mercy of the currents. 

To float is to freely give your consent to the laws of the universe. Think too much and you sink. You have to trust. Give in to natural balance. See that as much as you want to control things, you have to let go. There are larger forces as work.

Water is humbling.

©thebronzepotato

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2018.06.07 - Musing

The window acts as the division between her reality and the world’s.

It’s the knight standing guard. It’s the draw-bridge that offers entry and easily allows it to slip away.

Her window is lined with plants and floral drapes — her personal botanical garden. 

Another escape. 

Another layer to peel away before seeing the reality outside. There’s a mix of herbs and half-dried succulents. A few plants with fried tips from the sun’s unfriendly rays. Curtains rise up. Anchored by plastic rods to create order and shield her away.

At night, one light lingers. 

Unable to block the illumination, it’s now her companion. No longer a nuisance, it’s a reminder of what lies beyond. A beacon for passersby getting to their hideaways.

Her old window had no brightness to shield. Then, her window stared out to darkness, death, and rebirth. A place of worship, a dog’s running space, the scene of a grill on fire, where memories were made. Who patiently looks out this window now?

Things are different. 

Dust gathers near her new window, having it open guarantees it. Through its frame, you hear sirens, babies, arguments, even that song you loved in 6th grade. Reminders that even in loneliness, the world flutters on. 

The window is a portal to life even when life retreats.

©thebronzepotato

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