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mariaarrabella-blog1 · 7 years
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mariaarrabella-blog1 · 7 years
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Part One, Growing Up
All my life I grew up with thinking my father was in prison, my mom had died, my Uncle was my Uncle and my Aunt was my Aunt and I never questioned this, not once. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to, or maybe it’s because deep down I always knew there was something I was forgetting, like that feeling you get when you know you left the the door unlocked or the oven on. My cousin Kate and I have always been best friends, more than that like sisters. I don’t ever remeber us NOT being together growing up, we have a bond that I can’t explain. My father was sent to prison for murdering my mother when I was about two and half, leaving my brother Michael and I without our mother, we went to live with my Aunt and Uncle. Ever since I was little I have dreamed about my mother and what she would have looked like now, I imagined what it felt like to hug her, to cry in her lap when I was scared of the dark, or to feel her hands as we walked to the park, her her voice telling me not to cry when I scrapped my knee ridding my bike. These things I kept to myself, I didn’t even tell Kate, I certainly never told my Aunt or Uncle … I was afraid they would feel bad or think I didn’t love them. I never thought about my father … It had never occurred to me to even think about my father, in all honesty I hated him. I hate that he stole my mom away from me and my brother. I hate that he stole away all the memories, all the Christmases and birthdays and everything in between. I never wanted to know my father, not his name or anything about him. I never asked to visit him in prison, never asked to see any photos of him, never wanted any mementos of him, or even cared why my grandparents (his parents) never wanted anything to do with me or my brother. I HATED THE FACT THAT HE WAS STILL ALIVE! I didn’t even know why he murdered my mom, I didn't ask because If I didn't then maybe no one would, maybe I could pretend in my head it never happened I guess its funny how the universe works outs. Because if I had know then, maybe the shock I got three in half years ago wouldn’t have turned my whole life upside down, maybe I would have dealt with it better, or maybe not. Maybe they would have still lied to me, Kate and Michael our entire lives. Maybe the lies would have continued forever and we would have never found out. It was one moment that turned everyone's life upside down . . . One moment that changed everything, and that moment wasn’t my moment. If Kate never would have been in an accident, if Kate hadn’t needed blood at that time . . . One moment and EVERYTHING changed . . . Time. I grew up thinking we were normal, I told myself that, made myself BELIVE that. I knew that my parents were gone. But instead of telling people the truth I told people that they were both dead, me and michael both did. Kate and Shaun (my cousins) went along with that it was easier and anyways Kate, michael and I looked very similar we passed off as siblings no one questioned our stories, and Shaun was twelve years older than Kate so he wasn’t even around that much. In fact he was ALWAYS in trouble. Kate and I were close, despite being two years apart some people thought we were twins and there were a few times growing up that we took advantage of that to get out trouble! Kate was always more outgoing than I was, she was the the first to try new things and to get me involved in everything. She introduced me to everyone in high school and was the only reason I hung out with the “cool kids”. She always had my back and never let anything happen to me or my brother. I remember when there was rumors going around about my brother being gay, she kicked the LIVING crap out of the guy who started that rumor (the guy was my brothers boyfriend we would later find out) and then told my brother “they I don’t care if you are or not, but I want to know why I am beating people up!” Then the guy she was dating called my brother a “faggot” and she PUNCHED him right in the face and told him you EVER call my cousin a faggot again and I will kick your ass! That was Kate, I was so envious of her. She wasn’t afraid to be stand up for what she believed in. Or tell even the people closest to her to F off! I never had half the courage she did. My brother Michael denied he was gay for years, but he finally came out in college first to me and then to Kate. He was afraid because we are a pretty conservative family, and was afraid my aunt and uncle would disown him. I told him I never would. I loved him no matter what I was pretty sure, neither would Kate, I mean she kicked the crap out of a few people in high school for saying you were gay! When he told Kate she told him the same thing and we all agreed my brother would tell my aunt and uncle at his college graduation, Kate also told my brother that if my aunt and uncle turned against him she would never talk to them again. This was his cousin telling him that! I was his sister and of course I would do that, but for his cousin to be there for him like that. Kate told me that she just could never let anything bad happen to either of us. From that day on the three of us had a bond that was unbreakable until June 16 2013. My brother came out to my aunt and uncle and it was harder for my uncle but they love him and they raised him as there own and accept him no matter what. Kate and I both have gay friends so I also think that helped them. Kate met a guy who we all thought she would marry. He was great, but he also had suffered from alcoholism, he was great to her. They had their problems I wont lie, but they worked through them. He treated her well and thats all that matters. He also had a hard time getting help, that was hard on both of them. During this time I went away to college and got my degree in photography and in philosophy (I love philosophy thats why the double major) in Seattle, at the University of Washington and then to NYU where I got my masters in an extension of photography. I came home when Kates fiancee Jose committed suicide, she was devastated. By this time they had been together for ten years. Jose had started doing heroine about 3 years before, she left him when she found out. He got clean and they got engaged, but he started again, she tried so hard to help him, he would get clean and go back. When he committed suicide he had been clean for almost a year, she came home on that November 8, 2009 to find he had overdosed. There was a note in his pocket telling her he was sorry but he just couldn’t go on, he loved her and he always would. What he did was take an amount he knew would kill him, she wouldn’t date another person again until she met Jason almost 5 years later in 2015. She convinced me to go away and chase my dreams and once again I thought about my mom, I thought about sitting on a blanket in field having a picnic, filled with daisies, just me and her. I thought about talking to her about how scared I was being alone in city I had never been to, with people I had never met, where it rained 9 months out of the year. I dreamed about laying in her lap and telling me it would be ok, and her playing with my hair. I dreamed about us often and I still do, I like to think that she really is in my dreams. I ask my brother if he dreams about her too and he says he does, but he wont tell me what he dreams about. I left for Seattle and I admit I never regret that I went. For the first time I was on my own, without Kate looking after me. I met different people, interesting people. Although I was never serious with anyone I dated guys. I knew I wouldn’t stay in Seattle. I missed my home, but loved Seattle. I loved the clam chowder and ALL the coffee shops, I loved living so close to the ocean and the fact that the winters were so mild despite the rain. But I even grew to love the rain and found the soft patter relaxing and often put me to sleep. I found a new taste in music and fashion and was surprised to find that fashion hit Seattle a few years earlier then Denver! I found IKEA and decorated my apartment, and when Kate came to visit I introduced her to the wonderful place, and so when they opened one in Denver she was excited to finally shop there herself! Seattle was so much different than Denver and SO much greener and I grew to love the lush surroundings and found that when flying into Denver it was SO browner compared to Seattle. When I got accepted into NYU I almost fainted even my brother was impressed, he even got rejected! NYU and UW are two different schools and Seattle and New York are two very different cities. Everything I owned was to casual for New York, even my camera bag wasn’t up to par! I have to admit even though I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to go to NYU, I would never live in New York again. I didn’t make many friends there, and I never seemed to get it right. In one of my classes I impressed my professor with my portfolio, one of the requirements to get in to NYU was a portfolio of your work. It had to be pretty extensive and of course my professors had it. My first professor ended up showing it to the class. Our classes were not big at all. Maybe twelve students at the most, and each class also had a student professor. This professor was a woman, and she had my photos up her projector, and maybe it was just me but it was gigantic! She started telling the class how impressed she was and talking about the different techniques that were used, the variety of photographs I had chosen for my portfolio but how I had narrowed my subject down to landscape and street photography. Then she asked me to stand up. Oh my gosh, I can’t even tell you how embarrassing this was, did I mention EVERYTHING I had was too casual for New York? YES this also included class! Since I had chosen NOT to get to New York until 3 days before school started I did not figure this out, so I didn’t have time to go shopping or do much except get my books and sleep. So I stood up and let me just say, instead of getting interest from my fellow classmates I got glares. Not at all like UW, see at UW my classmates would have wanted to be teammates with the student who excelled not here! Oh no! There was a lot of jealousy! My professor made me speak about pretty much every photo in my portfolio and where it was taken, what made me choose it for my portfolio, what lens I had used, what ISO, Aperture, Speed, if I had done any post editing, if I used any filters and if so, what filters? Why did I prefer using granulated filters over ND and polarizing filters? This took up pretty much the entire class and she didn’t let me sit down before telling the class that they could all learn something from me. This did not help me at all. Please understand I am not one to brag about my work, and I have seen others portfolios and I do not think they could learn something from me. In fact I though many of the other students had way better portfolios than I did. But for some reason my professor picked me in that class to be her favorite and that was that, even her student teacher wasn’t good enough and that class was a living hell the rest of the semester! I did get an A! Not all of my classes were like that though, NYU was BIG and the people who were in my first class I never saw again the rest of the day or the rest of the two years. The nice thing is my brother wasn’t far away in DC so he came up to visit or I went to DC on weekends often. He came up more because he loved New York. Michael showed me more in New York than I would have ever seen on my own and the times that Kate came up we had a blast! New York is very expensive though so I learned to be frugal, but I got my first big photography job in New York and I have my first professor to thank for that. I also started doing documentary photography, I was into politics and current events and there was PLENTY of that going on in New York, After all Hillary Clinton was in the Senate and was rumored to be running for president in 2009, I did some stuff on NYPD post 911 and on the NY firefighters post 911, which was extremely powerful. Some of the more emotional documentary photography I did was on the 911 memorial site and twin towers. I never did get to see it finished but it is something I will never forget and hopefully I will one day get to go back and see it. It is a memorial that everyone should see at least one time. Because we as Americans should never forget that day. I fear that so many of us are forgetting that day. When Kate called me and told me about Jose I had already graduated from NYU, and was traveling on the east coast working on a project capturing the beautiful east coast colors. I had traveled through Maine, Vermont and Connecticut and I had never seen such beautiful county and coast before. I was by myself and I preferred it that way, I could work at my own pace and do things my own way. Sometimes I just like to sit and take in the many places I photographed, not talking to anyone. During this time I would often dream about my mom, wishing she was with me. I cried a lot during this time, and it was during this time that I hated my dad the most, he robbed my brother and I of so much, not just of our mother but of a father as well. Sometimes during this time I wondered why he killed our mom. I did ask my brother once if he wondered why he killed mom. He got very quite, he told me you don’t want to know Marie, you don’t want to know.. I said do you know? He said some things are better not know. We never talked about it again. Not until June 16 2013.
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mariaarrabella-blog1 · 7 years
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Fall in love with ordinary. Fall in love with the everyday. Fall in love with brown eyes and small towns and a hand full of dandelions. Discover. Discover the crevices. Read the books that aren’t so popular, by little known authors who have a lot to offer. Listen to music that makes you think. Choose art that is buried in the corner of galleries, or on the street. Teach yourself to love the small things. The special but unnoticed things. Teach yourself how the ordinary is not so ordinary after all.
S. Zhao   (via blossomfully)
These are words that should be in front of us daily, to remind us to slow down and just appreciate life. Very beautiful and eye opening.
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mariaarrabella-blog1 · 7 years
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Many have an image of me.. few get the picture
(via fluffymcfatty)
My feelings written out in 10 words.. Great Quote! Thank you for posting.
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