Day 12

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

Shooter Pt2

Why was this guy being such a creep? Well pushy anyway, I guess I’d be more so the creep. At least that’s what I’ve been told. My graduation thesis was a compiled portfolio of my professor. The assignment was living Art, she was my subject. I thought it’d be cool to surprise her with all the off guard pictures of her living her life. Wasn’t my fault she was cheating, I legitimately thought the guy I’d kept snapping her with was her husband. Either way her written response included the words creepy, intruding, and even evil. I passed with an A in the class. She even said I’d have a promising career in investigative photography or as a peeping tom, I chose neither. Yes occasionally I might catch someone doing something they probably won’t want on film for the rest of eternity, however Noah’s reaction was out of line. You can barely tell who it is least of all what he was doing. Fucking weirdos, they’re everywhere. I heard the bars door bell jingle from being opened. Turning and finally getting out of my own head I continued my task, taking before shots. Soon the party planners crew along with the chef were in and out filling the bar and distracting me from the interaction with Noah, whom since disappearing with a case of champagne, had not been seen.

“Attention! Attention everyone,” a familiar shrill British voice called out across the bar of workers. “Listen, the official party is set to arrive in 45 minutes and guest will start arriving in the next 20. Let’s tighten up the space and can I have the photographer at the door in 2 minutes please!” the voice called out. I peeked through the crowd to see the planner who’d hired me. I saw her searching for my face in the sea of workers but she found Nova first. “Ahh you dear,” she called to her. Nova continued sitting at the table right in front. She had been reviewing my shots from a previous job the day before on her laptop. “Sweetheart,” she addressed her while tapping her shoulder. “Yea” Nova responded never looking up. My face flushed red. Right here, right now I really needed her to put on her customer service face and she was failing, miserably. “Will you find Benji and make sure he’s at the door in 2 minutes?” the planner asked, almost cautiously as not to upset Nova. “BENJI!” Nova yelled startling everyone. They turned to look at the only guy clearly holding a professional camera. I slowly raised my hand and pointed to the door. “Headed that way” I resentfully said not even bothering to look at Nova. I was going to have to talk to her, this was getting out of hand. “Thanks dear!” the planner responded relieved she no longer had to interact with my cold as ice assistant.

The only reason I took this job is to avoid people, so why am I always around so many got damn people. It seems to be a reality I can never escape. As much as I try to blend into the background, I still must deal with the people around. It’s not like in nature when everything just seems to flow. No people want to talk and be acknowledged. I thought hiding behind a camera would save me, turns out it might kill me. I just haven’t realized it yet.

Day 11

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

Here’s a short story I’ve been working on today that I can hopefully finish before the end of the week:

Shooters Pt. 1

There’s just something about photography that only photographers get. Yea sure the newest phones boost the ability to take professional pictures, but until you’ve tried capturing the sun glistening from water drops sliding down the petals of lilies, while simultaneously trying not to disturb the natural setting, you haven’t captured anything yet.  Ok in my defense my freshman final shouldn’t be set as the bar for photography but there’s a point to my ramble. You need more than a phone to really get the perfect shot. You need to blend, you have to disappear. It was this factor that lead me to today’s events. A lot had changed in my life since soaking my socks in ponds scattered throughout the forest of Seattle. College came and went and so did girlfriends, my cat, and the fashion forwardness of hipsters (which let’s be honest probably should’ve never been considered fashion). I was still standing though, well currently sitting. I slid my circle glasses (remnants of my hipster days) up to the top of my head, pushing my sandy brown cut back slightly. Picking up my camera I started my session. Today’s events included doing before and after pics of a swanky engagement party. Not exactly soul reveling work, I know, but I gotta pay the bills.

“Benji don’t forget the bar,” my monotone assistant Nova reminded me as she set up. I nodded. I don’t speak much, probably the only reason Nova still has a job. Also probably the reason I can’t keep a girlfriend. Not that Nova’s a horrible assistant. She just doesn’t care. About anything really, but she doesn’t bother me, so we work. I stood up from the table I’d been capturing and turned to get the bar. These people were really going all out. A fully stocked, top shelf, free bar. I mean champagne, bourbons, vodka, every whiskey you could think of. I lifted my camera back to my face and just as I snapped my picture a figure stood up from behind the bar. “Aww man, I wasn’t ready,” a mouth underneath a scruffy beard emitted. Lowering my camera I stared in wonder. Weren’t me and Nova the only two people in here? “I’m sorry I didn’t think anyone else was here,” I offered extending my hand, “I’m Benji.” “Noah,” the beard retorted smiling, I think. “Noah this is Nova,” I said as Nova walked by offering only a head nod in his direction. “Can I see the picture?” Noah asked not even acknowledging Nova. My fingers holding my camera flittered. I don’t normally let people view my work before it’s finished. I wasn’t even sure he was in the picture to begin with. Where had he come from? I lifted my lens to review the previous picture.

 Just then Noah hopped over the bar smoothly and was standing at my shoulder. “Sorry my guy, I barely got you”, I told him as he stood uncomfortably close trying to also see my cameras feedback. It was true, it looked as if he’d been about to stand up right however he’d peaked over the bar before fully extending. The photo had only captured the top of Noah’s head down the tip of his nose. Couldn’t even make out the enormous beard on his face. Just his piercing brown eyes throwing daggers through my camera. “Oh in that case delete it,” was Noah’s seemingly gleeful response. “Sure will,” I answered him dropping the lens to my side again, inching away as I did so. He was too close for comfort. But as I tried my best to shimmy slowly away from the barkeep, he somehow was still too close. “No, now,” he said resolutely. I turned to look at him only to find those piercing brown eyes already staring at me. “Well, I kind of have a process” I started to explain because it was true. I don’t like to delete photos from any event until I’ve had time to review them. Some of my most awesome pictures were accidents I was able to edit into masterpieces. “and right now I have to finish doing my before job BEFORE it turns into the after” I decided to say. No need in getting distracted, I already had to stay for the entire 4 hour event, soon others would be showing up. Noah grabbed my right wrist firmly and grabbed the camera with his other hand. Just as my heart rate started to sky rocket Nova re-entered from wherever she’d disappeared to. Noah let me go and hopped back over the bar. “No worries,” he said back turned to me. He lifted a case of champagne from the floor onto his shoulder. “I’ll get it later,” he finished, walking into the kitchen behind the bar. “What the actual fuck,” I said aloud. Nova looked up from her phone blankly. Her silent blinks asked nothing, they more so told me to calm down and shut up. Her indifference kept me from explaining why I was making expletive filled statements loudly. I looked down at my camera, she looked back down at her phone.

Day 10

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

Ya’ll…..I wrote a song! Well, part of a song. I think it’s a country song, I dunno. But I’m gonna practice it tomorrow on my guitar and see how it sounds but this is as far as I got:

Nights like this

Staring at the empty space
pillows placed where your head would lay

Reaching for your warmth
with a handful of tears, who said time heals

I didn’t tell you to go, begged you to stay
but you turned and left anyway

It’s night like this
When the rain won’t stop
a broken heart still beats
and old love won’t leave

It’s nights like this
when thunder shakes the walls
I ache for your touch
Once upon a time we had it all

So yea I gotta figure out the second chorus and maybe a bridge but…this is Nights like This ☺️

Day 9

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

I’m highly medicated, dangerously caffeinated and extremely observant.

Sometimes so that I believe my hallucinations are real.

I see strangers in anger at one another for opinions cultivated in their own journey.

I hear words dancing, enticing me to act on feelings evolving as I go, daring me to go further than I have before.

I feel love radiating from every corner of my home, a colorful spectrum that only I can behold.

I taste the bitterness of resentment through actions geared towards hurting those who have hurt.

And the stench of mediocracy is constant through it all, am I all that I will ever be?

It’s in these moments that the train carrying my thoughts halts and considers the purpose in baring it all. If I were to write my list of pros and cons of this world, this life, this journey, is it worth the trouble to stay on top? Is it worth staying here and enduring rather than submitting and drifting to what comes next?

This is not a cry for help but a ramble of my thoughts…dark right? It’s what I call this piece. Dark.

Day 8

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

It’s not what you think

I have to tell myself this constantly. When car horns blow, and voices are raised. Every time someone else drives. Anytime I’m late and someone’s waiting. Easily startled is an understatement when describing my reaction to things I have no control over. Initially I began to believe that the bouncing of my leg was just nerves. I was nervous, and that to me, seemed normal. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. When meeting someone new, or making a big presentation at work, everyone gets nervous. However those things don’t make me nervous. Those things don’t cause my knee to bounce uncontrollably and my heart beat to quicken. The things that draw my breath and makes my brow sweat is the sound of children being chastised. Feeling cars become faster than I can comprehend, or yells directed to stab at your back. Those things give me flashes of a childhood I fight everyday not to relive.  At almost 35 it’s taken me half my life to understand that it’s not what you think. Going through childhood trauma sharpens your body’s natural fight or flight response, but it wasn’t till I began to go to therapy that I found out about our third response or lack thereof. Freeze. You have fight or flight or freeze. I never had the option to fight, it never even crossed my mind to do so. I took flight so much in the beginning you would’ve thought I was flying away to those fucks my mother never gave. No my weapon of choice was to freeze. I laid there night after night frozen unable to move for fear of retribution. I stood there day after day unwilling to run because if I took it all, they wouldn’t be touched. 7 years was enough to damage me for the rest of my life. But I made it out, I made a way for myself and left that all in the past. So why while my friend whips her car through the traffic of 75 do I feel like I’m going to die? Why is it when I hear arguing I tense up waiting for the blows to strike me? Besides realizing I have heightened senses, therapy helped me realize my nerves had full on anxiety. Avoiding confrontation, latching onto people who are nice to me, feeling hopeless. I was shown that the things I could not explain were not uncommon for people who have been through what I’ve been through. My anxiety makes me feel like the air has been taken out my lungs and my limbs no longer work. It makes me feel like any moment he’ll show his face and I’ll be stuck. But therapy’s helped me understand, it’s not what you think.

Day 7

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

I’ve been having back problems. I don’t know what it is exactly, I thought maybe be posture but it seems the harder I try to sit up straight, the worse it hurts. It’s only relieved when I lay down. So I spent the day laying down. Well most of the day, it’s supposed to be my day off but of course I ended up at my office.

Day 5

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

I am writing to you from behind closed eyes. I am tired…tiiirreeedddddd ya here me. It has not been a day for writing, only mental and vocal battles for my sanity. If given the opportunity I think my workforce would 100% bury me in emails and menial request, just to keep me from doing my actual job until the last hour of my workday. Oh wait, that happens daily. Anyway I think I want to start a juice bar. Like even thought everyone says the world is going to shit and economy is horrible, and even though I’ve literally never wanted to be an entrepreneur I have a feeling I’d be good at it. It’s not to say that I won’t be good at being a writer or that I don’t want to I think it’ll be a good additional income, ya know? But yea…a juice bar…and a bookstore. Actually it’s a place I want to call the Coffee Bar that is a coffee shop (obv) but turns into a speakeasy after hours. I daydream about these things often.

Day 4 (& 3 due to technical difficulties)

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

Ok so I missed a day…well not really, I wrote to meet the intent of writing everyday but i didn’t get to post this because the wifi was down, so this counts as day 3

But moving on to Day 4….I didn’t write anything besides this post today. The wifi was still down most of the day however honestly that shouldn’t have stopped me from writing. What did stop me from writing (the story, not this post) was work…and a book I was reading that I was determined to finish today (I did), but mostly work. I’ve been daydreaming about sitting on my roof and charging my crystals but I can’t seem to find a way to get paid to do that so I guess I’ll keep working for now but I’ll keep thinking on it. Hopefully tomorrow will be a little slower and I can find the motivation to dive deeper into my research of plotting. I’m feeling good about this still, holding myself to this promise….I don’t begrudgingly write out of requirement but because I’m looking forward to proving myself right. I can do this. I will do this.

Day 2

/ Bri Rawlings / 1 Comment

Today, for the first time I researched. Now I look things up all the time, how to make bread, can I really live off grid…..is this mouth sore herpes (don’t act like you’ve never wondered). Anyway the point is that I research all the time but in all honesty I’ve never researched how to write a novel. I always just assumed the story I wanted to tell would be like one long conversation. Plot points? pshhhhh. Character development? can’t you tell?!?! Climax? …hello that’s the ending. If you can’t tell, I literally had no idea what went into the dream I’ve so reverently claimed to be pursuing. So today I learned about plotting. Which began with me defining what a plot even is. Turns out the endless stories I’ve started and never completed have been nothing more than drawn out plot summaries, apparently I’ve been plotting for years. The good thing about this I was able to choose one of my plots and move on to….drumroll pleaseeeeee……subplotting!! yep that’s right, I’ve developed plots within my main plot!! unhuh, pretty impressive if i say so myself. Also I spent a lot of time developing my characters for this book and tomorrow I’ll be creating a detailed outline!! But all this started with me researching how to write a novel…..I feel like I’m finally ready to know. The story I’m choosing to tell first feels therapeutic and I hope it helps me release the feelings I’ve fought so long to not let consume me.