Who Am I? That is a question I’ve been asked and asked myself thousands of times. And the clarity of that continues to grow. I am a caring, generous, loving soul. A leader, a lover, a lifelong learner. I am a fave bitch to my friends who recognize fierce love and badass resilience, tenacity, strength, and deep caring and compassion. I am also the softest rose petal, the most beautiful sunset, and diamonds sparkling across the ocean as the sunlight hits the water. I am a lighthouse, the dawn after a long night, and the underground river in the desert, not always needing to be seen but constantly giving. I am the desert rose, that blossoms with the barest minimum and in the hardest conditions. But I am more. I am the ocean that rages, the ocean that holds, the ocean that moves and the ocean that soothes my own soul. I am the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the ocean breeze. I am all of that - and I haven’t even mentioned mother, wife, or business owner, artist, or any of the other things I do.
I am also a mother, and though it isn’t my identity wholly, being a mother is something I am whether I try or not. And, I am Aunt Salty. It’s the name given to me by my nieces and nephews but it means love in the deepest form. Love that does not need DNA. Love from a mother for anyone who wants or needs a mom, even for a moment or a weekend or to know there is one who loves them. Mother doesn’t need to be my identity - but Aunt Salty will always be my soul.
I am a creator, an expressionist, a soul toucher and those are the part of me that I forget to embrace, to dance with, to love. And even when I squash it down and leave that creator out in the cold throwing scraps to her existence, she holds on. She finds a new way to create, to let the beauty inside be seen, to give with it, and to love. And that is the part of me I get to feed. Not just as an artist painting, or a body moving, but the heart that is free to express, to be seen, to love. In expression, in my deepest capacity, I don’t need protection. I only need to let what’s inside be seen and give space to others for them to be seen and heard as well. And even when the paint dries and the colors don’t work or the painting is damaged, when I say the wrong words or when I look crazy dancing, the beauty is still in the expression. That shines through, and through the courage of my own expression I give space for others to remember they matter too. And it is this way that through expression and creation I also create connection.
