like citrus

if crazy means living life like it matters,
then darling we are completely insane.
but who's to say what's crazy.
what about the sunlight against your golden skin.
and the way you pressed your lips to mine when i was seventeen.
insane the way we watched us drown, i can't believe.
crazy like the way you swallowed all that bullshit
and they convinced the world it was an accident.
accidental death.
it's never a valid term.
and now you linger around my mind. dancing circles in my bathroom.
you lived.
i learned.
now consume all your pride.
think about how your future died.
i wonder what you'd be like now, baby.
my eyelids fall to your hair like citrus.
i know now it's survival mode.
war against you..... the weakest.

moments of contentment

it's summer time and we're sitting together on a bench placed high upon a cliff, overlooking a lake. its a beautiful view of the mountains and if i squint my eyes tight enough, i can see people in their cars, passing by me as they drive down I-80.
this is our spot.

i look over at you, sitting next to me, holding my hand and for the first time in a long time, you're seeing the world as i'm seeing it. we're seeing it together. and for just a quick second.. i feel as though we've been here before. it's like we're 80 years old and we've lived this memory before. i snap back to the moment and for the first time, you tell me you love me.

it's not the overwhelming butterfly kind of moment.

it's more like a moment of contentment. a completion that fulfills you, brings your soul peace and makes you see the world with a little more ease.

three years later it's snowing. we've been growing apart lately with the distance between us and we're not really "us".
the lake is frozen over and we step out onto the lake. i look at you.. a little worried that we're on thin ice and you smile because you know its going to be okay.

i'm skating on the ice, spinning and swirling in circles around you.
we're laughing and we start to dance. you're whispering a song called "love story" in my ear. this is our love story.

we walk up to our bench on the cliff and look out over the world covered in white.
you turn to me, and for the first time in a long time.. you tell me you love me.

a moment of contentment. a completion that fulfills you, brings your soul peace and makes you see the world with a little more ease.

two years later i'm driving home. it's snowing on my windshield and on the freeway, right in front of our bench that looks over the world, i lose control and very nearly lose my life. when it's finally over, i realize im ok. we're ok. you still love me. and i'm still alive.

now thats a moment of contentment. a completion that fulfills you, brings your soul peace and makes you truly see the world with just a little more ease.

pleading, not praying

i would like to first of all agree with elizabeth gilbert, who wrote in her book that when she uses the name "god" to speak to a higher power she isn't hoping to offend her readers, she just feels comfortable with the term. so here we go, i too would like to use the name god when reffering to the one i pray to.

really, though.. its more like pleading. i don't attend church and i've never been one to "pray". but much like elizabeth i've come to the point of pleading to god.

me, my soul, my personality, the person i am, has never been indecisive. i really think i've always know what i want. but then again, to say "i think i know" is quite the contradiction. so why don't i know? it's just not me to be this..... lost.

lost: unable to find the way.

so why does this describe me? and why am i to the point of pleading?

i think because i'm never fulfilled where i am.. almost like i think there's something in the world im missing, like a part of me i never had. but then again, i "think", i do not know.

how does anyone really know? did you, reading this... and how did you know?

so here i am, pleading to god to help me make the right decisions. the big ones, like what to do for a career, who should i be, who should i be with, and where do i belong? i'm feeling like im floating again, all along being thankful that im breathing. thankful for the people in my life i love, who love me too. so why is that so bad? whats missing? why am i complaining?

its just something i guess im hoping to find.. something that completes me and that i don't ever question. something i "know".

dear dealer,

you're like a drug, and i'm hooked on you. you're the only thing i see.

addiction is just like every infatuation based love story.
it begins when the one you love gives you the heaviest dose of something you never
admitted you wanted.. an emotional hit of love, passion, excitement. addiction to a relationship
is much like the addiction to a substance.

soon you're a hungry, obsessed junkie, craving that love. or better yet that person.

when the drug is out of reach you turn crazy, going out of your own mind
sick and resentful of the dealer who got you hooked in the first place.

soon your shaking in the corner, heartbroken and empty.. professing that you would
sell your soul, rob your friends, give up everything you once wanted just to feel the
rush of that love.. the way it used to be. if only one last time.

you've got to see that we're a pathetic mess. unrecognizable to even our own eyes.

untitled

i just awoke from a dream of you, you were looking back at me as you walked away.
i realize how much i am missing you.. trying to be ok.

i always wondered why you leave and look back... and what is on your mind.
but now i know you want to remember what youre leaving behind.

i walked out on my porch, watched as cars drove by..
sat with earl grey.. and tried not to cry.

im wearing underwear and the tshirt you love so much.
the sun is beating down on me and im longing for your touch.

im thinking if i could run away id go to the ocean tonight.
i just want to be alone and clear my head, try to make things right.

i want to call you and hear your voice right now, but im not sure what i'd say.
so ill keep pretending i dont miss you, and live another day.

Slowly you're sinking.

Whenever you're around, it seems I can't find the inspiration to write.
You're a burden and I have no idea why.
I'd rather be alone in the dead of the night.
You're blocking my view of the sky.

You think you're so smart but you're so misleading..
We stare at the sun setting..
It looks like its bleeding.

Whenever you're around, it seems I can't finish this painting.
Its like I'm losing my love for art..
I'm so dizzy I'm fainting.
You're an empty room, a broken heart.

I always thought being without you would kill me.
and now here's what I'm thinking..
this is how things have to be.
And slowly you're sinking.

constellations

all you are is a memory.
i cant forget the way you kissed.
your voice.. to me, is a melody.
we tried to aim.. and we missed.

your skin on my skin was like heaven.
your arms wrap my waist so tight.
you said we matched like constellations.
you loved to hold me all night.

every time i saw you.
my heart would drop to the ground.
you promised you'd be there all the way through.
so why did you stand there and watch me drown?
i had to get over you.

your thoughts are wearing down on you now.
you keep letting your mistakes take you in.
and without me you say you cant breathe somehow.
your mind and soul are wearing so thin.

still... your words cut like a knife.
but you're the light in my dark world. youre a gift.
and with all the turbulance that comes with this life..
i'm still here. i'll still be your lift.

now all i can see are these memories...
i still cant forget your kiss.
your voice is still like that melody.
and i really hope you read this.

glass.

very rarely do we realize just how fragile we are.
and we do not embrace it until we are reminded.

i was very clearly reminded of this one morning in april.

i'm driving in my car and the sun is shining down on me.

the desert around me stretches out and the beautiful mountains turn to blue sky.

just ahead, a bit of a darkness.

i'm thinking about my best friend taralynn.. and i wish i could see her more often. our memories together remind me of a time when i never felt more alive.

i send her a text, letting her know i miss her already.

jack johnson is singing to me and he blares through my speakers.

then a song comes on by him called "lullaby".

"When you're so lonely lying in bed
Night's closed it's eyes but you can't rest your head
Everyone's sleeping all through the house
You wish you could dream but forgot to somehow
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Sing this lullaby to yourself"

its a soft, slow, beautiful song. one that you would listen to when you're laying in bed trying to fall asleep or sipping a cup of coffee on your porch swing with the one you love, cuddled up while watching the sun set.

it's amazing the way a song can make our mood, the way it can speak to us. how closely we can relate to simple words made so beautiful.

a few drops of rain suprise me as they splash against my windsheild.

then out of nowhere, not just rain but snow. coming down harder now and slamming into my windsheild like a rush and ive just driven into a storm.

i'm driving 78 miles an hour on the freeway.. i turn on my windshield wipers, and jack johnson continues on singing me a lullaby.

before i even have time to take off my sunglasses and turn off my cruise control i hit a puddle of water.

i'm sliding.

i'm sliding off the right side of the freeway still going 78 miles an hour and i can't stop.

i'm rolling.

all i hear is glass.

glass is so shiny and beautiful. it allows us to see into the world around us and brings us light when the world seems so dark.
and when it breaks it's much like the sound of screaming.

glass is breaking and screaming at me. its screaming and threatening my life. i'm holding on to my steering wheel as hard as my hands will let me. all im thinking is.. "this is it. today is the day." it lasted about 10 seconds and felt like 10 hours.

the nightmare finally ends. its over. i open my eyes and i'm upside down.

i'm buried in broken glass and jack johnson is singing me a lullaby.

i take off my seatbelt and i realize i'm okay. i'm alive. i just stole my life from death. if only i could put into words how grateful i am.

as i climb from the wreckage, out the broken window, all i see is a billboard in front of me that says "Jesus Saves".

this day was my miracle. and i still have so much more to live for.

cling to it while you can.

Love.

To experience the deepest of all emotion.

It's one thing that can make or break you.

Don't let it slip away.

To live every day like it had been stolen from death..

That is how I want to live.

To feel the joy of life and love and cling to it while we can.

To seperate oneself from the things in life like burden and anguish that we all experience every single day.

To say I am alive.

I am breathing.

I am.

That is something to aspire to.

This is how I will live my life.

a need-to-know.

you don't have to be a makeup artist to be amazing.. but it helps.

love without words

wasting ink

I can't stop wasting ink on you. Your name clings, suspended from the tip of my pen as I drag you over the paper, again and again.

You always leave a messy streak on everything you touch, the stains on my coffee table.

And even with you gone its like you're always there.

Round reminders of what we weren't. Of what went wrong.

You had the knack of making me feel like everything seem cluttered, like i took up too much space.

And now you fill my room with crumbled up notes, sonnetts and apoligies.

You say it's inspiration but really it's invasion.

Every inch of you fills my notebooks, makes the pages cramped. Nothing has changed and I'm tired of writing about you.. how you always tucked your fingers in my pockets, as though you couldn't hold me any closer. The way held me in my sleep.

You ruined me and you left me with this endless cursive.. and odes to your lips.. the way they stayed closed.. suspended and let me walk away.

My margins are full, there is no room to breathe, my heavy pen reminds me of the weight of your hand in mine.

Now I'm miles away and you're all over my paper. Wasting ink on you.

today.

Today I slept in with James.

Loved him every second.

Got up and took a bath..

Too sunburned to have hot water.

Got dressed and made breakfast.

Of course I burnt the toast.

We laughed about the way I cook.

So he made the toast.

He left to go to work..

I still loved him every second.

Thought of why I shouldn't be with him for the rest of my life? Nothin.

Went to a meeting at work..

Wondered why I can't win everyone over.

Still wondering why.

Went tanning. Got a fresh sunburn.

Came home and saw James before he left for the weekend.

Loved him every second.

Went and had dinner with Jen and Kim.

Wondered how I got lucky enough to meet such good friends. Nothin.

Talked to my dad.. felt sad that he's lonely.

Wrote a blog about being lonely.

Took a bath.. cold, because of the sunburn..

Thought of cuddling up to a good book.

Read the good book..

Thinking of why not to write a book? Nothin.

what its like to fall.

You're sitting on an airplane. You're 40,000 feet above the ground.
Dreaming of the future and the one you're going home to.
You're watching the water being pressed into tiny designs along your window..

Your sealtbelt is on, your feet are up. You're safe.

Like lightning your oxygen mask falls in front of your face and the plane starts to fall.

Right then, you hear yourself say... "Please god. I really need you now. Help me make it through this one."

The nose of the plane pulls up.. and you can finally breathe again.

The pilot comes over the speakers and says, "Sorry for the scare."

That's kinda how love is.

And when it's over you ask yourself why you got on the plane in the first place.

You remember the beautiful places it took you...

So the question is.. will you fly again?

And if you do, will you crash and burn?

a memory

I'm seven years old. I'm laying in the long, soft, golden grass staring at the sky.

Dandelions exist all around me like the sea. And thats exactly what they are, a sea of lions.

To me, dandelions are the most beautiful of all the flowers.

No one ever bothered to tell me they were weeds. How did a weed manage to change into something with such beauty?

It wouldn't have mattered anyways, you couldn't change my mind.




I'm swirling a dandelion in my fingers, holding it by its stem.

I look over at my mother and she snaps a quick photograph of me in the sea of lions..

the sun reflecting off her golden hair.

She reminds me of a dandelion. The most beautiful of all the mothers.



I realize this is my heaven. I want to live inside that photograph forever.



Heaven. I'm staring up into it. I'm watching as the clouds keep moving further and further into the sky and in a way I know I'll never see them again and I miss them as they pass. I'm a little girl dreaming of heaven.

makeup makeup makeup.

When I was about 10years old my mom was already a successful photographer in the small town I grew up in. She was even more talented than i can put into words. She would take beautiful photographs of people, have them printed in black and white, bring them home, spread them out on our gigantic dining room table.. take out her colored pencils and paints.. and hand color the photographs to make them look like paintings.

After staying up together many nights and watching her for hours on end.. she ordered me a few photos of girls to paint myself. I'd sit next to her and paint little girls cheeks rosy with pink paints.. then use black pencil to draw on eyelashes.. red lips, pink lips, coral lips. It was the beginning of my love for transforming the beautiful faces of women.

The most common thing people ask me is... what would you change about my makeup now?
Obviously that's an extremely hard question to answer on the spot.
But the amazing thing about makeup is you can express whoever you are.. and if it doesn't quite work out you can wash it off and start over.

A lot of women are "anti make-up". They claim it makes a woman "fake", "artificial", or "clown like".. But in my experience as a professional makeup artist these woman are usually (except for the few who are absolutely drop dead gorgeous without a stitch of it) afraid of makeup because they have no clue how to apply it or where to start. That's where I come in :)

The most amazing thing about makeup is the fact that it can be worn in ANY WAY you want it to be. If you are a simple girl and you really don't feel the need to take an hour in the morning to get ready for your day.. All you need is a great skin care line.. a little tinted moisturizer, mascara and lipgloss. If you're someone who LOVES to play with colors and textures... then you're in for fun.

I can still remember the first time I went to MAC.
My mom and I walked in, and the music was blasting..
and all the beautiful girls who worked there were dressed in black.
Not just black clothing though. Black art. They all wore the most amazing black high heels...
Some wore pencil skirts and others wore outfits that you look at and think..
"Wow I would have never thought to wear something like that."

The place has something about it that makes you not only envious of the artists who get to work there but theres also something that makes you want every single item they sell, even if you really aren't a makeup "enthusiast".

The best way I can describe MAC if you haven't ever had the privledge of visiting a store is like driving into a beautiful city at night and being in total awe.

Needless to say I became obsessed with the makeup but also becoming a part of the MAC world. It was just so much different than any of the other cookie cutter stores.

My first day working for MAC was pretty much like any other first day. Except that I was completely intimidated by the beauty that existed behind the counter. I very quickly made some of the best friends I've ever had. We would dress up like we were going out to a club for work.. make people look freakin amazing.. sell them the makeup.. then go out together. It was definitely the funnest job in the world and I couldn't believe I was getting paid the amount I was to do something I loved to do and hang out with my best friends.

All I wanted was to be promoted. I wanted to be a trainer for MAC. I wanted to be the artist who taught other artists technique and skills. The trainers were the MAC artists who walked into the room and you were at a loss for words. The were the celebrities of the MAC world.

I moved to California to work for MAC and still loved work just as much as the day I walked in for the first time.. But California was insanely expensive and I was in love with a boy who lived 7 hours away.

If you ever have the opportunity to work for the company.. you have the artistic ability and communication skills... my advice is don't give up until you're in.

Home.

I sometimes wonder what life would be like if we would have stayed together. Would we still spend Christmas on Soda Lake Road?... Would we still be happy as a family? Would life have changed and we could have worked through it together? But mostly.. What would our home be like today if it didn't have strangers living in it?

I dream about that house all the time.
I'm there with Jimmy and we have babies.
Shalena and I are walking together down the driveway.
Our dog shasta running down the hallway while my sister and I laugh as she leaps over us like hurdles.

I'm walking through the hallway.. checking every room. Looking for my dad, my mom, my sister. But I'm the only one in the house and its like we never left.

Sometimes I drive there just to stop and look. Remember who I used to be in that house.. and all I've really wanted to do is knock on the door and go inside. Why can't I just let it go and move on? It's just a house.. People move out of houses all the time. I don't want to ever let go of who we were there... a family together.

And what I really longed for since we left there to make new lives seperately... is the feeling of home.

That feeling of warmth that you run to when you're sick.. or heartbroken.. or you really need a break from your hectic life.. back to the place where you spent all your time as a child.. playing in the yard.. pressing your hands into the wet cement.. riding your bike without training wheels for the first time. That familiar place that is much like two arms wrapping so tightly around you right as you walk through the front door.

I miss it so much that it hurts.

For a long time after the divorce I felt like I was floating. Just floating through my life not even living. It was like I was a person but without a soul. A soul that I knew was in there somewhere so deep and I couldn't find or reach it. I would stay at my mom's new house for two weeks and as soon as I started feeling like I wasn't just a visitor there, like I might be home.. I'd have to pack up and leave again to go to my dad's new house that still felt new.

It might not make any sense at all, but as soon as I found Jimmy.. I felt those two arms wrapping around me.. it was like I was walking through that front door again on Soda Lake Road. It was like I was finally home. I cannot put into words the love I have for him.

For four years he was the person I wanted to be with when I was sad, sick.. or just needed someone to talk to. He would hold my hand and kiss my forehead.. And he always has this way about him that makes me feel like even if the world was ending it's gonna be okay somehow. We had our on and offs and I couldn't understand why... but now I know. We were sorta growing up together instead of growing apart. Ups and downs... Like most couples.

Then all of a sudden, my home got really dark.

I want to say first of all that to anyone who has experienced the nightmare of what addiction can do to a loved one.. It might be the worst thing in the entire world. Especially when you don't understand it and you're living in a constant nightmare. Every day is a downward spiral into a really deep dark hole. Every minute you're waiting to hear good or bad news because you never know if today is the day they will decide to turn away from it or let it take their life completely. You beg the person you love to stop hurting themselves and all you can do is hope they hear you through the unexplainable state of mind they are in.

He was my home. and he was drowning.

They say that heroin is the most addicting drug. And as I was learning of all the secrets in his life.. Someone told me that if he died of overdose, I could deal with the grief by knowing he died in the best way possible because heroin addicts didn't feel the pain. That statement is what made me really wake up to the facts of what the truth really was. I couldn't really even believe what was happening in my life. For a period of time.. when people lent me a shoulder to cry on, that's really all I could do was cry.

But I knew that the only thing I could do for him was to be by his side. So thats exactly what I did. And that's exactly what I will continue to do. We went to a doctor and he's been sober for almost a year now, and I can't tell you how proud I am of him for that. He has had such a hard struggle that most people can't overcome and he's really learned a lot and become the person I know and love again.

Someone asked me.. "Haley are you really willing to deal with the fact that he will be a recovering addict for the rest of his life?"

And all I could really think was... aren't we all recovering from something? I mean really. Think about it. Maybe we aren't all addicts. And maybe we haven't been that low. But we have all been hurt in some way that makes us human. And we recover. But I know that I couldn't recover from anything if I didn't have someone by my side who loved me.

If you know me.. You know how passionate I am about art. And in the past few months my family and friends have been a little shocked by the choices I've made to change my life and be with Jimmy. And I know some of you have felt let down by the fact that I left the career I loved as an artist.. and I know I let down a lot of my friends and co-workers, but I hope someday you'll understand that I'm a girl in love with this incredible boy who loves me too.

And he is my home.