Label Maker

I always used to want a label maker.  My best friend, Abbie, and I used to make our incredibly witty sayings into labels and put them everywhere.  There was in particular a certain purple trapper keeper that had the best witticisms.  I wish I knew what happened to that trapper keeper.

I always had an obsession with labels.  I wanted one for myself desperately.

Now I want anything but a label.  I am in love with ambiguity and ambivalence.  I want the edges of everything to be blurry because it feels more free.  Labels, boxes, lists: they all feel too restricting.  I want the freedom to change my mind tomorrow.  Sometimes I long for the ease and security of a set of lines which I know I shouldn’t cross.  A description I know I should try to fit.  A list I can measure myself against.  But now I know the freedom of accepting everything as it is.  Of not needing to know.

I’m not a feminist.  I’m not a liberal.  I’m not a student.  I’m not an artist.  I’m not a screw-up.  I’m not a perfectionist.  I’m not an American.  I’m not a label.  I just am.  If you can put one word on something, you’ve oversimplified it.  Life, love, the world, everything is beautifully complex. It changes with every moment.

Its like being a tourist.  I sometimes spend so much time behind the camera trying to capture memories that I forget to make them.  Sometimes I spend so much time trying to label things that I forget to look at them, touch them, feel them, love them.

Experience.  Be.


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