How loud is your voice?

In the process of dusting off this blog to write more, I've discovered that I have forgotten my voice.
Sitting at the computer with coffee{liquid muse};staring for a good solid 10 minutes and getting nothing.
I'd type a sentence. Backspace. Backspace.
Stare.
Drink until last drop of coffee.
Type.
Backspace.


Oh now come on! This is just crazy.
So I did what any sane person does at 7am and only wearing their pajamas....... I stepped outside to inhale deeply fresh air and clear my head.
Well truthfully a sane person would have taken a moment to check the weather a bit closer as when you close the door behind you, only to discover it's -18C with a windchill..... quickly gasping the icy air into my lungs and having my eyes begin watering instantly.
Inside....I can clear my head and find my muse inside.
{Went down and tossed 3 more logs into the furnace}

Sitting here again and giving myself a good shake off.
I'm just going to begin writing again.
Days will be picked out to blog on. Circled on the calendar for reminders.
I'm not going to bury myself with a mountain of how and what and why.
The more I write, the louder my voice will become.
It's there. I can hear the whisper deep within. I have just forgotten how to bring her out and onto the screen.
I'm going to keep a little notebook with me to jot down ideas and brain blurbs.
Something to put next to the keyboard for when I stumble. I'll be able to open a page and pick something out. It might not make sense at that exact moment but it will give me something to write about. To focus that energy again with words.

I also am going to start sending out more tweets.
Twitter is a great way to get writing practice as it's short and uncomplicated.
Do you follow me there?
Thru the Attic Door on Twitter

Feeling better already about my voice.
It just took a little writing ;)

Tracy(Cedara)Dunn

Thru the Attic Door
{A Collection of Primitives, Mixed Media Paintings and more}
*LIKE* my Facebook Page
https://www.facebook.com/thrutheatticdoor

Authentic Self

Just a little while ago, I changed my profile photo on Facebook 

as I'm prone to do when the mood strikes.

Something odd happened this time. Someone sent me

 a private message to let me know they thought it strange

 that I take so many photos of myself and post them.

really?

I know that many folks use photos of their children,

 a funny quote or image they found as their profile.

 That has never really been my style. I want it to be a photo

 of "me" so that if friends are searching for me on FB, 

they'll know it's me when they find the profile. 

I'm not talking about the zillion photos folks take

 in every bathroom they seem to find themselves in.

 I use the mirror in my kitchen or I've even managed

 to have some fun outside taking photos.

I don't own a cell phone so having to use my

 big camera sometimes is awkward. 

My husband isn't the type to take photos

 so I hardly ever ask him. My camera is with me

 most of the time and I just started playing with it.

 It's digital so it wasn't like I was going 

to be wasting film.

I just started clicking.

Hardly ever look to see how the photo has been captured 

until I'm sitting back at my computer. 

No filters or tweaking. 

Just what got snapped when

 I pushed the button.

In an online course I'm taking, the teacher made this statement

 that went along with an assignment 

of having to take self portrait.

"I don’t feel that my (or anyone’s) love for self portraits

 comes from arrogance or vanity,

 but rather a sense of self discovery 

and wanting to stimulate

 an internal conversation within myself. 

 Sharing self portraits with the outside world is

 like sharing art, there’s that chance that 

it will resonate with another and

 create a common bond. "
Misty Mawn.

After I read that quote, I began to look closer 

at the photos I was taking.

What was I trying to capture?

An emotion?

A color?

A moment I didn't want to fade.

When I look at these photos,

 I see my authentic self.

No photoshop.

No filters

This is me.

I see ancestors in my face.

My great grandmothers eyes.

My aunts nose.

My jawline is from my father's side of the family.

Laugh lines

Wrinkles

Grey hair

Scars

Everything Life has opted

to bless me with as 

reminders of how I have lived my life.

Quiet eyes

Shadowed with darkness

Blue grey eyes

tinged with a spark of madness

A sharp tongue

hidden behind the smallest smile

ready to lash out

for either a quick needed laugh

or to put someone in their place.

A mind reflecting on the past.

Daydreaming of the future

and all that may open before me.

A heart that has loved

been broken

healed

shattered

and healed again.

A soul

Whispering messages

to always be true

don't be fake

Stay steady on your path.

Be weird

Be Random

Be who you have always meant to be.

When I take my photo,

I see where I have been

and where I'm going

all mixed together at once.

What makes you different,

makes you beautiful.