thoughts.

your church

Jessica Helvey — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 17:17:03 +0000

the truth must dazzle gradually, or evermore be blind
-emily dickinson

the gradual rising of the sun and the moon, the canter of a horse, the forming of a cloud on a slow wind, the growth of love in two patient hearts. these things dazzle me.

the slow dazzle is alright with me. i tend to be slower in thought and realization anyway. but like all human beings i get impatient - want things now, not later. it’s difficult to see this pause as just a part of the bend and curve in a life being lived. this is the life i had pictured once. i’m slowly forming another picture in my mind. perhaps it will turn out to be the same one. a life of pendleton and morning light, generosity and imperfect rumpled sheets, releasing my needs and realizing most are just fears, favorite shirts and warm after-work greetings, simple interest in the events of eachother’s day, a recounting without fear of judgement or surface humiliation, an ability to be dear friends and also lovers, good mornings and gentle words, kindness and time taken, grace even when there is a lack of effort - or more importantly, grace when there is stubbornness. the mountain, the cabin, the heart. this is my church.

i can’t help but wonder the differences in my generation and yours. yours seems more kind, more willing to bend so the other won’t break. my generation is so caught up in ourselves, we seem to need to protect our opinions and independence, let no one take advantage of us. it’s a stubbornness that is destroying our ability to connect and be loyal, to work things through without feeling like we’re losing or giving in.

at the end of our last day we’re going to return to the dust we once were, so why are we so fiercely trying to get ahead of one another, even the ones we love. who knows what’s after this life, we can say all we want that we love, that our love is ineffable, that we put others first before ourselves, but i’ve yet to see this. i’ve yet to see two people give up their own wants for the other’s happiness and still be happy. i’ve yet to see two people give up their needs when nothing is promised back to them. in theory mutuality should work. but i’ve never seen it work beyond the point at which all of a sudden it does not. when mutuality breaks, the relationship breaks up. so i’m wondering if mutuality only works when there is loyalty, to eachother and to the decision that led to being in this life together. because without a promise, without loyalty, then why stay in it when it gets too hard. don’t we know that everything will always get to hard? it’s the mantra of life itself. it’s why we have our thumbs. we evolve, we constantly change ourselves, adapt, live. but it seems as if we only change ourselves to better ourselves, not to love another better. to love better may mean sacrifice, it may mean losing a part of the self we protect to make someone else’s day.

i’m not yielding to you

Jessica Helvey — Sat, 28 Apr 2012 18:57:36 +0000

my father has bought some mildly impressive power tools. they’re no festool but they get the job done. we are now experts on hardwood floor instalation and we’re quite chuffed with ourselves. i have so many plans, so many things to build. the first being a very special ladder. the next being a very special life.

where is this man, i must find him. i have so much to ask.

life has a gap in it, don’t go crazy trying to fill it.

Jessica Helvey — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 20:30:43 +0000

life has a gap in it, it just does.
don’t go crazy trying to fill it.

well this is unexpected.

my idea of what is and is not a simple life has changed. i used to think it was a vegetable garden, a minimal amount of well designed and functional furniture, walking to work, having tea, loving well. i wasn’t wrong. but i’m observing another kind of simple. one that doesn’t involve a collection of well curated things.

i’m having so many odd thoughts about new zealand. not good bad up or down. just alot of thinkings that are collecting and forming… something. i used to put new zealand on a pedestal near heaven, above heaven actually because i’m not so sure about that place anymore. i still think this landscape is close to perfect. i’m older now, 14 years older, and i’m seeing this country differently. i’ve seen hell and beauty in a single day, and now i’ve returned to my first home. here is what i’ve found:

kiwis drive tiny rusty cars, live in tiny houses with spectacular views, sit in well worn and generationally handed down furniture, have overgrown jungle gardens, have alot of crap in piles like most humans, pick you up from the airport in bare feet, don’t care about organic food because most of their food didn’t have a problem to begin with. it’s hard to find coconut milk here, it’s difficult to find a good green curry despite a thai or indian family owning every other corner store. they seem to be inundated with brand new shitty american media, so they’re kind of stuck 3-4 years behind when it comes to the good stuff - luke hadn’t heard much of bon iver and his wife to be was considering walking down the aisle to a fucking song by that awful mainstream band train. i did everything in my power and stopped that horrid idea.

there isn’t alot of stuff in new zealand. there isn’t enough here some might say. style and design isn’t as important - many homes still have that odd modern streak that happened in the 1990s, modern meaning that turquoise carpet and matching kitchen cabinets. nothing has really been updated. Dwell would have a heart attack here. they’d go into it all positive, trying to change things and then fall over dead with shock because kiwi’s don’t place a large amount of importance on their house, they just don’t.

there isn’t as much opportunity or self-made happening. all of my friends went to tech school. most people are teachers, administrators, nurses, farmers. to be in a creative industry or even to be an artist is rare. they don’t consider their job to be anything more than a means to an end. i would not have opened a gallery and studio here, it would have been out of my reach entirely. there’s no cheap online postcard place to send designs to, there’s no plotter printer at my job. but the point is not that i would not have it, it’s that i would not need it. new zealander’s know how to be content. they are happy. they have tea five times a day out of teapots into teacups (strained tea leaves, not teabags). they dry their laundry on lines. most of them have a fruit vine or tree requiring little or no maintenance. they live in the most beautiful landscape. they’re so happy. so content. so witty. they openly judge and laugh. they’re human. they travel. they love their country. not much is hidden.

it’s a simple life, but in a different way than my simple. the oddity is that it’s not the new zealand i had formed in my mind. and stranger so, being here has made me appreciate parts of america more - its new found appreciation for vintage, for made-in-america, for farmers markets, for boutique shops, for artist studios. being here has made me envious of kiwis’ carefree form of simple. it’s made me think some unexpected things. living in new zealand is not necessarily better than living in america. it’s a different life entirely, the two countries almost aren’t even on the same plane of existence. and i’m fascinated by all of this.

home & back again

Jessica Helvey — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 17:07:16 +0000

to live content with small means: to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion: to be worthy, not respectable; and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly… to listen to stars and buds, to babes and sages, with open heart; await occasions, hurry never… this is my symphony

-william henry channing

i’m going home in 8 days.
my first home. 45° S

not the first home i remember but the first home i remember leaving.

my darling luke is getting married to a beautiful alice. she’s the brunette gwyneth of the far south. i’m happy that he has calmed into love, into home, far from the mayhem of before and forth into whatever the world will say next - but with a partner, a partner who loves him dearly, who can smash his ways right back at him and who he can love with all of his heart.

so i’m going to the wedding and to my home. on the day you left us i will stand in front of our house and i will think of you and everything in me will want to die. and maybe i will. and if i do that is ok. but if i don’t, i have to know that’s okay. and i have to find a way to be happy without your hugs, your real time words, your dearest love. i keep trying to make the things i remember about you current, real, memories are not enough an i find i am most uncalm when i try to make them enough. how do i accept, two years after you are gone, that you are gone. you can’t be gone. i will struggle with this until i die.

so i will stand in front of our home and remember the swing, every dinner at the table in the house of windows, every birthday party, every hug, every spanking, the milkman, the grapefruit tree, the killer opossum, the guinea pigs, the jasmine, afternoon tea, the time i escaped to the neighbors house when i thought the babysitter was going to kill my brother. new zealand, i am coming to you. i have no expectation other than that i will love you no matter how much you have changed, and i know you will in return love me, no matter how much every single thing has changed.

reading material for the plane. yes, yes. diane keaton’s amazing memoir of her mother, herself, and the stacks of journals her mum kept her whole life. perhaps this will be perfect. this and a cunning maeve binchy book. i will look like a 55 year old but i already am in my heart.

goodness. this is happening.

dogwood horses.

Jessica Helvey — Mon, 19 Mar 2012 17:17:17 +0000

the dogwood are out and my heart is full.
so full.

what is it about dogwood, magnolias, and beautiful horses. they are the spring of life - full and hold-able, petals and horsehair, today i love this earth. i’ll try to remember this thought in the rougher moments.

my atoms came from those stars, i am traceable to the crucibles

Jessica Helvey — Sun, 11 Mar 2012 14:53:44 +0000

spring is here and i don’t intend to be too busy to miss it. i missed it last year but not this time. spring in the south is birdsong, early southern light, green pockets and magnolia petals you could eat if you want to. and i want to. the rain is soaking everything, i heard it last night through my open window. these days are rare. i will love them all.

today i am happy and i’m not sure why. perhaps it’s because i know i’m still loved. perhaps it’s because i’ve let it go. perhaps it’s because i haven’t given up on _________. perhaps it’s because everything is going to be ok. perhaps it’s because i marked off things on my to do list. perhaps it’s just because.

the day will soon wake up and be filled. i may fall asleep less or more happy than i am now. but it doesn’t matter. right now i am the most content i will ever be.

i have built a home for you. for me. i don’t know when i will find a structure to place it in, so for now i’ll carry it with me until we meet again, or until i meet you for the first time. i heard someone say once there is so much life lost in the wait. this isn’t waiting. this is the carrying on while caring still.

life of wood.

Jessica Helvey — Sun, 11 Mar 2012 13:24:23 +0000

this is my spring. this is my home. this is my before and my next. this is where i will go and where i have been. this is the most perfect place to be. in the woods. in spring. in the south in the north.

what is the most astounding fact you can share with us about the universe?

Jessica Helvey — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 16:41:31 +0000

the most astounding fact

the most astounding fact
is the knowledge
that the atoms that comprise life on earth
the atoms that make up the human body
are traceable
to the crucibles
that cooked light elements into heavy elements in their core
under extreme temperatures and pressures
these stars the high mass ones among them
went unstable in their later years
they collapsed and then exploded
scattering their enriched guts across the galaxy
guts made of carbon, nitrogen, oxygen and all of the fundamental ingredients of life itself
these ingredients become part of gas clouds that condense, collapse
form the next generation of solar systems, stars with orbiting planets
and those planets now have the ingredients for life itself

so when i look up at the night sky
and i know that yes we are part of this universe, we are in this universe
but perhaps more important than both of those facts
is that the universe is in us
when i reflect on that fact, i look up
many people feel small because they’re small and the universe is big
but i feel big
because my atoms came from those stars
there’s a level of connectivity
and that’s really what you want in life, you want to feel connected, you want to feel relevant
you want to feel like you’re a participant in the events around you
that’s precisely what we are, just by being alive

- astrophysicist dr. neil degrasse tyson

happy birthday

Jessica Helvey — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 15:03:08 +0000

soon.

Jessica Helvey — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 17:12:58 +0000