Just a little bit.
amaliemaren.typepad.com…is no more. Moment of silence. Moving on.
Introducing….
amaliemarenphotography.blogspot.com
I decided to just stick with what I know – good ol’ blogspot! Never fails. Find me there now.
Love,
Amaliemaren
Listen to this. Talk about one, talented, girl.
Keep singin’ lady!
Love, AmalieMaren
Welp, I really want to get photography going. I’ve been so inspired lately, (don’t worry, I’ll share my source of inspiration at the end of this post)! Seriously SO many ideas bouncing around upstairs for pictures I want to take. Point is though, eventually what I want to do, is have this be my main photography website…for now though, its just my life. That being said, I’m starting a little on-the-sided typepad blog solely for photography. Check it out here:
It really is just a simple blog at this point, but it will be hosting all my photo shoots and photog work from this point until further notice. This, I will continue updating with my feelings and thoughts until I have a better idea for a future set-up. Thanks for listening.
Now, for the shout out. This girl is a-dor-a-bleeee! She is making me SO excited about picking up the camera again! Her stuff, is just killer. Check her out!
Her website is:
And her flickr is:
www.flickr.com/indiejanephotography
Love love love.
Love,
AmalieMaren
Sometimes I wonder about the people in my life. Sometimes I worry about what they’re thinking, what they’re talking about, what they’re doing. Sometimes I feel like channel 12 would broadcast their conversations about me over the middle east if they only knew.
Then I remember.
This last month will forever be one of “those moments”. When you realize something. When you want to change. When you make a decision and know that your life will never be the same.
I am so, so happy right now. I am the happiest I’ve been, for years, if not in my life. I literally wake up with a smile on my face. My camera is glued to my hand, I spend 99% of my time with a guy who defines “best friend” in my personal dictionary, I’m headed to Seattle, I’ll have a job soon enough. Life is just really, really beautiful. I’m living right, and I’m living a life I love. There’s nothing holding me back because I refuse to let it.
I’m smiling again! I’m dreaming again! I’m loving again!
My heart just goes out to the people around me because I feel like they spend so much time worrying for no reason. They’re the ones caught up in anger and concern, while I’m out there laughing about buying four boxes of Multigrain Cheerios in one week! (True story, I’m an addict.) I have a hard time when people make assumptions before asking questions, and I have a harder time with people who don’t ask questions. For once in my life I want to stand up on the rooftops and shout out every detail about my life and the relationships in them and now is the time that people decide they already know.
I just went to Seattle for a week! I’ve been wanting to go to Seattle since my senior year in high school, I’ve been talking about it for forever. I got asked directly about it by ONE person. One.
I went with a boy that I dated for a short time three years ago. Just me and him. Out of the random. 4500 mile roadtrip. Two people asked about that directly. Two.
What??
The only thing in my life right now making me sad, is the fact that I feel like no matter what I tell people, they will still believe exactly what they want to and disregard completely what I say. The fact that no matter how happy I am, it won’t be good enough if it’s not the happy that THEY want me to be. I know there have been example after example over the years of people who succeed having absolutely no support in the process, but in the meantime? Tre harsh. I sincerely wish they would feel more comfortable being a part of it. I really would love them to be. I’d love to be able to laugh about irony and rumored conversation.
I love the people in my life, and am so excited for the day I find a way to make them realize they can be as much a part of me as they want. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.
Wishing on the stars for a good open conversation full of laughter and love.
And yes, I’m cuddled up to the boy while I do it.
Cause that’s just me.
Love, AmalieMaren
What is GOING on?
You know what I’ve realized this last week? There’s always somethin’.
Like.
There is ALWAYS somethin’.
Whether it’s tangible, spiritual, emotional, physical, or none of the above, there’s going to be something. Someone holding you back, something in your way, some waiting period. It’s some-thing. Thing is, that somethin’ always ends. Always. It’s on to the next, but it ends.
That being said, why focus on it? Go focus on the parts of your life that you DO love, and know that whatever your dealing with? It’ll pass. They all do.
The title of this blog comes from the song “Not Lost” by B.o.B. featuring T.I. (the boy found it tonight…told you I love him for his music choice) and it is DANG good! Listen to it here if yeh wanna!
It may have a bad word or two, so de-ear the little ones first.
Love, AmalieMaren
PS: Sorry for the lack of interest in posting lately, can’t seem to find my camera battery charger, so I’m waiting for le replacement in the mail. Pictures SOON after that, I promise.
I heard this story in church today and it hit me so powerfully. It’s the kind of thing I don’t feel like I can keep inside. What a perfectly, selfless, example of love.
Chad was in the fourth grade. Because he was exceptionally small for his age, he was never chosen for teams at recess; during P.E. class when everyone had to be selected, he was always picked last.
Chad was shy. It was hard for him to talk to others, and he never knew what to say, so he just kept to himself.
He walked the one-half mile to school every day. And every morning, his mom would stand inside of the screen door and watch him leave until she couldn’t see him any longer. Every afternoon, around 3 p.m., she’d stand at the window by the kitchen sink and watch a group of fourth-grade boys laughing and kicking rocks on their way home. And about a block behind them walked Chad. Alone.
One day he came home excited and announced, “Mom, Valentine’s Day is coming soon. And I want to make valentines for every kid in my class. Will you take me to the store so I can get all the stuff?”
Her heart sank. She knew her son. He threw his whole self into everything he did. She didn’t want him to invest a lot of time and energy into something that he wouldn’t get back. But she also didn’t want to rob him of this newfound excitement. So she agreed.
After dinner, Chad broke into his piggy bank, and his mom took him to the store. He bought everything needed to make big, beautiful, homemade valentines — glitter, bright red construction paper, ribbons, white cardboard, brand-new crayons and markers and stencils.
Every day after school, Chad passed by the television, went straight to his room and worked on the valentines. Some nights his mom could hardly get him to the dinner table. She’d never seen her son so excited before.
After two weeks, he had finally completed his works of art. “Look at `em, Mom! Aren’t they great?” They were glorious. Beautiful in every sense of the word. Thirty-three bright red homemade valentines sat on his dresser that night. He dreamed of giving them away the next morning.
When he woke, his mom helped him carefully wrap the hearts in a big box. She taped it closed in case he dropped them on the way to school in his excitement and hurry.
As she watched her son leave with the box tucked under his arm, she noted that he walked with confidence. And for good reason — he had worked hard for what he carried. But her heart sank for fear that no one would remember Chad when passing out valentines to each other.
She decided to make cookies that afternoon and timed it so they’d just be coming out of the oven when he got home. That’ll take the sting out of his day, she thought. Warm, gooey, chocolate chip cookies — his favorite.
She placed the cookies in the oven at 2:45 p.m., then paced the floor. At 2:58 she pulled them out and placed them on the counter. At 3 p.m. she looked out the kitchen window and saw several fourth-grade boys laughing and bragging about their valentines. Their hands were full of little notes and cards of affirmation.
And about a block behind walked Chad. Alone. She squinted to see what he held in his hands. Books. Probably homework. His lunch pail. Any valentines? Still couldn’t tell. But she did notice he was walking faster than usual. He’s probably about to cry, she thought. And he doesn’t want anyone to see him. I’ll hold the door open for him so he can get in faster.
She walked to the front door just as he sailed past her screaming, “Mom!”
He ran into the kitchen and passed right by the warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies and spun around. It was then she saw it. One valentine. Crumpled in his little sweaty hand. It was a photocopied valentine from the teacher. Same thing for every student. Nothing special. Mom reached out to grab him in her arms, when he started screaming again.
“Mom! There were exactly 33 kids in my class. And I made exactly 33 valentines. I put a homemade valentine in every single bag. I didn’t forget anyone, Mom! I gave each kid a valentine, and I didn’t drop `em or smash `em. They were beautiful, Mom. And I had exactly enough for everyone. I didn’t forget, Mom. I didn’t forget one single kid! Isn’t that great?”
And she started to cry, but not because her son hadn’t received any valentines; she was moved by his selflessness. Because Chad was so focused on loving others, he hadn’t noticed when he wasn’t loved in return.
Need I say more?
Love, AmalieMaren
So what’s the plan?
Here’s what I think I’m gonna do.
I think I’ll start focusing on photography now.
I mean really, what am I waiting for? I’m gonna start doing shoots just for fun as often as I can fit them in! If I build up my portfolio starting now…Seattle may be a little bit less intimidating. Maybe. A little. We’ll see.
Levi and I were down on Mill in American Apparel tonight. It was like a lil’ LIL’ taste of home. All crowded with people in skinny jeans and oversized v’s. I wanted to just line them all up and pencil every one of them in for the next month. Would that be too weird, approaching people on the street and asking if I could take their picture? I’m kind of thinking not. I’m kind of thinking that’s the me I want to be. Fearless.
I’m getting so ready. So ready to jump in with both feet. To photography. To Seattle. To friends. To life.
I’m just loving living! I’m loving finally feeling like I’ve got nothing to hide because whether you like it or not, this is me! I’ve never felt so ready to face the world and I don’t want to let it slip away. It won’t. I refuse to let it.
So.
Photoshoot anyone?
Love, AmalieMaren
“It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.” -Alan Cohen
No security in what is no longer meaningful.
That is so powerful.
Some time after leaving Arizona, I read back through my journal for the preceding year and a half. I had written things like:
“I’m just tired of trying to be more than I’m not. I don’t want to be exceptional. I want to be normal.”
“I’m so sick of hearing my family talk about their big dreams and what they want to do. What if I just want to live a normal life? What if I don’t want to go above and beyond?”
“I know we fight all the time, and neither of us are really going anywhere or doing a whole lot, but life with him is so normal. It’s what I chose. It’s what I want.”
Yes, because normal is running in to the bathroom at work every ten minutes to cry. Because normal is ducking down isles in grocery stores turning a five minute pick up into a half hour scavenger hunt just to avoid having to explain to an old friend why you weren’t doing anything you said you wanted to do. Because normal is going through concealer by the bucket trying to cover the stress showing through in your face and making you look like a “Before Proactive” advertisement. Because normal is avoiding phone calls and not sleeping and being afraid to be you in your own house.
It’s funny to me, now. I have to laugh at it. It’s the irony in life, right? It’s the story of the man who went searching for diamonds, overlooking the cover of them in his own backyard. They were disguised as normal rocks. It’s the fact that while I was trying my hardest to find that normality, and that stability, I eventually found myself as far away from it as I ever had been, ever have been, and ever will be again.
“There is no security in what is no longer meaningful.”
If you’re telling yourself that you have to give up what makes you alive to be stable, or to get somewhere, or to fit in, I can guarantee you you’re headed the wrong direction. What is stability anyway?
I am probably the most “up-rooted” (for lack of better term) right now than I have ever been in my life. Yet, I feel so much more ready and taken care of, and set for whatever comes my way, than I ever have. I’ve got a camera in my hand, and I know that no matter what is going on right now, this is just a step towards living the life that I know I want to live. I love having that to work towards. I love having that stability.
I’d be tempted to turn that quote around a little bit.
There is always security in living a life you love.
Now, go do it.
Love, AmalieMaren
This is me running back and forth across the ferry on the way back from Bainbridge. This is me lovinggg life! Ignore the quality of the pic, I’m just so glad Levi caught this face, because everytime I look at it I remember how happy I can be! This moment was one of the first in a long time where I had been able to just let go of everything and just completely enjoy living.
I’m getting more and more anxious to do this again!
I was talkin’ to the boy this last week about where I’d been, and where I’m going. We were talking about how weird it is to wake up excited about things again. How weird it is to not be constantly worried and defensive and scared and angry. It’s such a great feeling to be able to tell yourself who you want to be, and actually be that person. I actually catch myself off guard sometimes when I’m laughing, or start telling him how I feel about something or something I want to do, because I’ll say it without thinking about what anyone would think of me having heard it. That is such an awesome change. I can’t imagine ever, ever again allowing myself to be anything other than exactly what I want to be, exactly where I want to be it.
I heard a quote once that said “We are so accustomed to disguising ourselves to others, that in the end we are disguised to ourselves.”
I don’t want to do that. I am Amalie Maren Gillespie. This is my story. I can’t wait to see where it goes!
Love, AmalieMaren
If you’ve never decided one day you wanted to be somewhere, and picked up and did it the next, add it to your bucket list.
Let me tell ya, it’s thrilling.
I think my blogging is going to be changing up a little bit. I’ve told you, I’ve had a bit of a hard time lately dreaming. I limit myself. I don’t trust myself maybe as much as I should. I stop myself. Whatever I do, I don’t voice it. Here’s the deal though people.
I want to go to Seattle.
And here they come…
“…and how’s that gonna happen?”
“Out of state tuition sucks.”
“Seattle is expensive…”
“Say goodbye to sunshine.”
“Right. Don’t we all.”
They’re right, you know. Seattle is a cloud-covered, money-sucking, un-realistic, bum-dwelling, sunless city with ridiculous rents and sky scraping styles on people making not enough money and writing suicidal “I-miss-the-light” notes every other day. But it’s also full of art. It’s also full of life. It’s also full of ways to scrape your way by just as much as Utah, Arizona, Montana, Rhode Island and anywhere and everywhere in between. It’s where I want to be. It’s where I feel alive. Does anyone really get where they want to be by worrying?
I was filling out paperwork the other day (school, or FAFSA, or state, or something, I’ve filled out way too much lately to keep track of it all) and they asked a series of questions to which I answered yes to about places I was staying or living at the moment, the result of all those yeses? According to them, this girl is homeless.
Amalie’s Laws of Living the Homeless Life:
1. Embrace it. You are living. You are living the life that you choose, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.
2. Some people for reasons I can’t explain will try to tell you that being homeless is a bad thing, don’t listen.
3. Starting fresh is a daily occurrence, not a “when-disaster-strikes” situational confrontation.
4. Enjoy the quiet moments, the loud moments, the busy moments, and the slow moments. On second thought, just enjoy the moments.
Right now, I’m takin’ a little break back in Arizona. Familiarity. Familiar places, familiar people. Form a few more good memories with people I love before taking the next step. Will I be excited to stop living out of a suitcase? Of course. Stability is a good thing and I know that just as much as the next person, but right now I’m going to let myself take some chances. When you don’t have much, there’s so much less to lose!
This isn’t a sob story. In fact it is completely the opposite! I am finally learning that there’s a world out there!
If I want to be in Seattle, I’ll be in Seattle. If I’m gonna be homeless, I’m gonna be homeless in a place I love.
I won’t be here very long. I predict that by October, I’ll be walkin Pike’s every weekend.
Do you believe it?
Do you trust me?
If you answered “No” to any of the above questions, you’re not alone. Let me prove it to you. This blog is now the journal of a 20 year old gypsy. Enjoy the ride!
Love, AmalieMaren
