CA — NYC

Tomorrow I leave our beautiful coastline for its sister in the East…it’s already time again for our annual Thanksgiving vacation.

Life has thrown me several curve balls over the last three weeks, and I apologize for being absent here. I see this upcoming break as such a gift, and I can’t wait to show my children the wonder and magic of New York City over the holidays. We are so lucky to be able to do this with them.

I made this image by layering two shots together. Views from my neighborhood. Straight out of camera otherwise. I think I am going to make this really big and hang it up, really soon.

Wishing you all a peaceful, restorative Thanksgiving.

See you next week.
-Tara

36 hours in palm springs

What I like about Palm Springs is how it makes me feel like home.
I grew up in the desert. Mostly in rentals and trailer parks. Rocks, dirt, and tumbleweeds were my backyard. I never saw the beauty of it, instead I hated it, and got out as fast as I could by moving to it’s polar opposite: Santa Barbara.

There were memories wrapped up in the sights and smells of the desert that I was okay with forgetting.

For the past ten years I have lived in the neat and clean of the Orange, with its little boxes of suburbia, its close quarters and big intersections, its cool and temperate weather, and its perfectly coiffed landscaping. Sometimes over the last few years I have felt stifled, and claustrophobic, and like I don’t belong here. The expectation of perfection hovers over this place as much as the marine layer. The edge of the shore meeting the sand feels too final to me, instead of endless. Sometimes I need more room – not just physically – but wide open space for my head to breathe in.

And thus has begun our escapes into the desert. Just the two of us. Neither of us expected to love it so much.

I was always fascinated by the windmills as we passed through, traveling to Arizona or beyond. My dad hauled cars cross country, and at a very young age, I would sometimes go with him. Truck stops and open road and diesel fuel. Staring out the window, the huge fans just mesmerized me. They still do. They make me cry.

I think I have probably wanted to get out of the car and play under them my entire life. I finally did on this trip.

When Jeff and I were newly pregnant with Mckenna and living with his mom, he found a job as a process server, and his locations were Palm Springs and the surrounding cities. We had one car, a Honda Prelude, which we called The Blue Lude. It had a broken air conditioner. In the middle of summer, he would drive up there to work, and once or twice I went with him. The temps would hit upwards of 120 degrees, and being newly pregnant, I was barfy and miserable. I would walk into office buildings with him instead of waiting in the car, just to feel the relief of cold air. And then beg him for just a few more minutes of cool down before heading back out into the stifling heat of the car.

That’s how I felt this weekend.

Palm Springs was that relief of cold air you feel, after a day of sticking to your seats on the hottest day of the summer.

-Tara

35 and two weeks

Here, a collage of iPhone (mostly) self portraits taken throughout my last year on earth.

I turned 35 two weeks ago.

I am totally okay with that.

I have hated my birthday since the big THREE OH. Ever since turning 30, I have struggled every birthday.

This year, I was not sad and I didn’t hate my birthday. This year, I realized why.

In the past, I have chosen to live in the past. Every new birthday meant another year gone. All I saw was everything I was losing. Time, babies, lost moments, regrets. I couldn’t stand to see the passage of time in my own face. I wanted to go BACK. I wanted to DO OVER. I wanted to experience AGAIN. My babies were gone. My 20’s were gone. Didn’t that mean my life was gone?

And so, with each new birthday that came after the age of 30, I was sad. I was regretful. I was focusing on all that was.

Over my last year on earth, I have changed. I have finally been able to come to grips with the regrets of my past, and let them go. I knew 35 was coming. And yet, I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t looking backwards. Instead, I was looking at my life and the limited amount of time I have to be here. I was realizing how lucky I am to still be alive, when our lives are so fragile, when we have no control over when we will go for good. I was feeling grateful to have the chance to turn 35, and to EXPERIENCE another year. Yes, the signs of time are even more present upon my face. Yes, I have lost another year and I can’t go back and live it again. And yes, my children are even bigger.

The difference was this – I started living more in the moment. I stopped focusing so much on what was behind me, or what was coming up in my future. I was just taking every moment as it came. This is the life I have. This moment. This second. This body. This family. There is nothing else. And it turns out, when you are truly living moment to moment, you don’t miss the moments as much when they have passed, because you are able to fully experience them.

That is a concept I have always kind of known, we all know it, it is almost cliche. However, I have never experienced it in order to understand. This time I really understood.

This time I wanted to live in the moment of my birthday. I wanted to celebrate my life and the chance I had to live another year.

So, I took my birthday back. I thought long and hard about what I would want to do, all for myself.

I planned a trip to Palm Springs with Jeff. It would include: sleeping, drinking poolside, thrifting, reading, and more sleeping. And it did.

I am truly excited to see what comes up this year, and I know: no matter what, I am going to be okay.

My mantra for 35: I can do this.

-Tara