The Journal of Kelly the Brave: Past Adventures, Current Thoughts and Future Plans

"Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." Helen Keller

Category: Life

  • An Anonymous Life

    An Anonymous Life

    A few months ago, Tara and I took our recycling to the drop off site.  It seems every time we stop there, there is also a collection of junk that people just leave.  We’ve seen a baby crib, several mattresses and lots of broken furniture.

    On this particular day, there was a big box of books that was left by the can and plastic container.  I’m always looking for used books for art projects, found poetry projects. Eagerly, I started to rummage, hoping to find treasure.

    The books were a mix of paperbacks, recipe books and coffee table books.  (Tara found a lovely coffee table book on wolves).  As we were rummaging, I wondered why someone would dump a box of books at the recycling site.  Then, I saw them.  Two green diaries stamped ‘1981’ and ‘1982’.  I realized someone had died and someone else had gone through their stuff, to clean out the deceased’s home.  The diaries, like the books, were trash, things of no value and easily discarded.

    I grabbed the diaries.  I didn’t like that the diaries had been discarded so unceremoniously.  I felt like I owed the owner of the diaries an acknowledgment.  Not in a voyeuristic way. Instead, I wanted to honor the author. Their life had ended. Their memories, like their books, were thrown in a box and left out in the elements.

    The diaries had one page per day for the entire year.  There was a section for addresses in the front (that were scarce in both diaries), then the diary itself.  Some days, the writer just jotted a few sentences, other days, the whole page was filled.  

    The entries were simple.  Mentions of friends in the hospital, or dinner out.  I didn’t read it cover to cover. That seemed like a violation. The author seemed to have had a quiet, unassuming life.

    I became convinced that the author was a woman.  I had the impression that in 1981 and 1982 she lived in the Midwest with her husband. Still, I’m not entirely sure.  She mentioned Mass often but there was nothing noted anywhere what her name was, but why would there be?

    I kept the diaries on our buffet while I thought of the best way to properly dispose of them.  Then, I decided that I would take them on one of our hikes and leave them in the forest.  I felt that was a nice way to acknowledge a stranger.

    We had our Saturday hike yesterday and I kept an eye out for the proper place for the diaries.  After we rounded a bend, the perfect place appeared.  A moss covered forest floor with early wildflowers that had started to bloom.  Tall trees loomed above the moss that covered some rocks. It was beautiful. A Natural Cathedral.

    Tara and I each had a diary and found a quiet spot amongst the rocks.  We randomly picked a page from our diary and read the entry to the woods.  Then, I read then entry from January 1, 1981, and Tara read the entry from December 31, 1982.  We stood silently, then I placed the diaries between the moss covered rocks.  The diaries, and memories within them, now belong to the forest.

    I don’t know who the diaries belonged to, but I strongly felt that she deserved better than being discarded. I like to think she was a nice woman, whose life was filled with friendships and love. I like to think she was loved and that she is missed.

    At the end of our hike, I was still thinking of her. Her life, her discipline of writing in her diaries, and how simpler life was forty years ago. I hope she approves of the placement of her diaries in the forest. Diaries that faithfully recorded an anonymous life.

    Today, our world is anything but anonymous. Social media has taught us that the spot light must always be on us. We’ve been trained that our worth is dictated by social media likes and multiple followers. We swallow the lie that our lives can’t be fulfilled unless every minute detail is shared with strangers.

    There is beauty in being anonymous. Being noticed is always nice, but being comfortable in anonymity takes guts. It allows us to live in freedom from unrealistic expectations. It is a brave declaration against the societal norms of today’s world. So let us be brave and not fear an anonymous life. Let us find satisfaction and value from within. And when we do, we will shine.

    The above photo is the diary entry from March 15, 1981.

  • The Fragility of Friendship

    The Fragility of Friendship

    I’ve been thinking a lot about Seasons lately, particularly in terms of Life. 2026 has not been ideal thus far. There have been disappointments. There have been family crises. Health crises have also occurred, all in my personal orbit.

    I’ve especially been thinking of Friendship and how it changes with time.  Friends change jobs, move away, or choose different and new paths.   In those situations, it’s natural that friendships can change, and they often do.  When it happens, it’s unfortunate, but that’s life.

    I’m a Capricorn and an introvert. Separately, those two come with their own social challenges. Together, they produce an ambitious path to Acceptable Social Behavior.

    Throughout my life, I’ve been told I’m Standoffish. I’m Intimidating. I’m Too Quiet. I’m Too Serious. I’m Too Weird.

    I admit, I’m hard to get to know. I value privacy (the Capricorn part of me). I value quiet settings (the introvert part of me). But once I open up, I’m a cat-loving, wine-drinking, jazz-listening, potty mouthed barrel of laughs.

    Friendships are important to me and when they go to shit, it bothers me.

    Friendships, like any relationship, takes work from both parties. I’ve had friendships that have lasted my entire life (hi Suzanne!), but I’ve also had friendships that were Seasonal. Both types have value and are cherished. But I’ve learned that friendships, regardless of the label I assign them, are fragile.

    I’ve been thinking lately of a friend I love, but haven’t seen in some time. I’ve contacted her via text and phone call messages, to no avail. Her silence is deafening, and I feel devalued. Have I been ghosted, delegated to a Seasonal Friend? Am I no longer worth her time? Is she afraid of judgment from me? (I forgot to add that to my list of sins. Apparently, I’m Too Judgmental). I miss our friendship. I miss her.

    The best gift I can give a friend is my time. Time is my love language. If I want to spend time with someone, it means I love them. I choose them over photography or gardening (my other loves). Lately, I give time to my friends via handwritten letters. They are filled with anecdotes of My Crazy Life. I also started adding fun stickers, so I can pretend I’m as cool as my pen pal friend (hi Dana!)

    My friend, that I miss, has on my mind. Do I leave things be, and label her as Someone I Used To Know? (a subsection of Seasonal Friends in Kelly’s Crazy Mind). Or do I take the time to write out my feelings and send her a letter filled with stickers? I honestly don’t know.

    Friendships are fragile. What would you do in this situation? Do you label friendships similarly or am I just weird?

    (The above photo was generated via AI through wordpress.com)

  • On Saturdays We Walk

    On Saturdays We Walk

    Back in November, Tara and I started a habit that quickly turned into a tradition. On Saturdays, we walk.

    We’ve always enjoyed walks in the neighborhood. After returning from Scotland in September, where we enjoyed long walks, we wanted to keep the habit.

    I’ve always enjoyed walks. As a child, often after dinner, my grandma, my mom and I would often walk. Walking is great exercise and I love being in Nature. Making a weekly walk a priority would also be a way to honor Grandma and Mom.

    We are lucky that Nashville has miles of greenways to walk on. We are also surrounded by many state parks. We will consider our weekend ‘to do’ list and our individual aches and pains. Based on these factors, we will select a walking site and decide on the length of our walk. We try to walk at least three miles.

    I prefer going to a new site every week. Tara isn’t as familiar with Nashville and the surrounding areas. I like to introduce new places to her. I particularly like ‘off roading’, where we travel by path instead of pavement. I like the challenge of hills and steep inclines. We both have sturdy walking sticks which makes tricky areas easier to access, a good hiking shoes. We are fond of Cedars of Lebanon State Park and Beaman State Park. If pressed for time, we hit the greenway by our home.

    Our Saturday walks are such a treasure for me. I get good exercise, all while enjoying Nature with a friend. I also often have conversations with Mom and Grandma.

    On Saturdays we walk. But daffodils are debuting and I wonder if soon on Saturdays we garden. Stay tuned . . .

  • 401 Days

    401 Days

    Originally posted on December 31, 2015

    This past quarter has been the roughest in my life, and I’ve been thinking a lot about if I want to disclose what’s been going on in my head and personal life in such a public way.  A year ago, I started this blog with the intent on sharing photography tips, product reviews, and adventures.  I wanted it to focus on my life as a photographer primarily, with antedotes of my personal life sprinkled in.  I wanted to inspire people and remind them that it is never too late to follow your dreams, that finding your own path in Life may be hard, but it can be worth it.  So in the end, I thought if I shared my story, perhaps I could, in some small way, help someone else who may be going through similar tough times, too.

    I’ve thought about Death a lot this past quarter.  Death of Dreams, Death of Friendships, Death of What Was.  Death is all around us; we see it daily, whether it be a physical death or a metaphysical one.  I have experienced too much Death over the months.  I’m tired of mourning. 

    I’ve thought a lot about Suicide this past quarter, too.  The morality of suicide, the stigma of suicide and the reasons people may commit suicide.  I don’t equate suicide as a selfish act or a sign of weakness. To me, it isn’t even a cause of death.  People don’t die from Suicide.  They die from Loneliness. Emptiness. Sadness. People who commit suicide may just want to not feel anything anymore.  Maybe because they feel too much. They may just want to not disappoint others anymore.  Maybe because they’ve seen so much disappointment.  They may just want to find peace, because they’re convinced it doesn’t exist on this Earth.  I get it.  I don’t condone suicide but I understand its appeal.  I’ve seen the Darkness and managed to turn away from it.  I want to help others turn away from it, too.  I want to be Enough for someone so they don’t feel like I’ve felt this past quarter.  I want to have Enough patience, Enough understanding, Enough time, and especially Enough Love for someone who may be in a difficult situation.  Because this quarter I felt like I wasn’t Enough.  And no one should ever feel that way.

    I’ve thought about Life a lot this past quarter, too.  What is Life? What is Worth?  What is Life worth if it wears you down so completely that the only thing you want is to not break down the moment someone shows you kindness, or asks you how you’ve been. Life is cyclical.   It has Ebbs and Flows.  Joys and Disappointments.   Sickness and Health.  Want and Plenty.  It isn’t fair. But it goes on.  And somehow, we must find a way to go on, too, even when the odds seem so set against us.

    I know what you are thinking.  ‘This is a piece about depression.  Kelly is depressed and  uses too many conjunctions to start her sentences.’  Ha!  Keep reading.  This isn’t about depression.

    These last few months I’ve gone into hiding.  I hid from friends and family, from photography and even from myself.  I have decades worth of practice of smiling through pain and convincing others that everything is fine.  I even have a photography project called 365 Days of Awesomeness to convince the world and myself that all was well.  But it wasn’t.  For 401 days I experienced an unimaginable Hell that seemed unending. Sure, there were a few good spots mixed in, in an attempt to have some sort of balance, but the last 90 days or so were almost unbearable.  Those were the days when I finally understood that people’s compassion has a time limit.  That it is easier to lie to someone than it is to admit to them that your life is still Shit because you know they no longer care, even if you are still fighting like hell to improve your circumstances.  Thanksgiving Day 2015 is not a fond memory.

    But one day, Life was better.  I wish I could tell you the exact day or even circumstance when I realized this but I can’t.  I just knew that my life wasn’t As Shitty and I took that realization to mean that things were turning around.  The tide had started to flow and I was thankful.   

    This isn’t a piece on depression or even about tough times.  This is about redemption.  Those 401 days changed me.  I’m not as trusting of others as before and hopefully not as naive.  I’ve seen great pain and sadness and may have even caused some, but I now know the true value of kindness and joy.  I survived on little and now feel compelled to give much.  I lived in Darkness and now yearn to be Light.  I’ve found myself again.  There is much work that still needs to be done. But the benefit of hitting rock bottom is that you have a firm foundation on which to build upon.

    A few days ago, I came across this verse:  ‘The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in Spirit‘ (Psalm 34:18).  I was surely brokenhearted and crushed but I had forgotten that I wasn’t alone.  The name Kelly means ‘Warrior Woman’ and I will take that meaning to heart.  I will keep fighting and when I’m knocked down again, I’ll get right back up.

    Life is hard.  It’s OK to feel sorry for yourself and your situation.  It’s OK to think about Death.  It’s even OK to think people are assholes because they don’t understand what you’re going through.  But it’s never OK to give up.  2015 was anything but awesome and those 401 Days almost killed me.  But on the eve of 2016 I see Promise and after everything I’ve seen and everything I’ve been through, that’s damn impressive.

    Here’s to Redemption and Promise.  Happy New Year.

  • Be A Dandelion

    Be A Dandelion

    Spring is on the way and I’ve been thinking of the flower I’d want to be.  Tulips, roses and calla lilies are my favorites, but after thinking about it, I decided I’d be a dandelion.

    I know it sounds weird because so many people consider dandelions a blemish on their otherwise pristine lawns.  Dandelions aren’t wanted, are easily overlooked and are often destroyed without a second thought.  Why would I want to align myself with a weed?

    If you look deeper at dandelions, you’ll soon see the appeal:

    Dandelions are one of the first flowers of Spring. Because of this, they are an important food source for bees.  They also usually are a child’s first bouquet and ‘flower crown’

    Dandelions are resilient – they bloom in the most amazing and impossible places.  We’ve all seen them peeking out of city sidewalk cracks. I’ve even seen them bloom on a side of a cliff!

    Dandelions are edible.  Every part of them can and have been used for everything from salads to wine.  They are rich in antioxidants and have more protein than spinach.  They are also medicinal and have been used as a diuretic, which can help diabetes, hypertension, and urinary disorders.

    Dandelions don’t fade away, instead their seeds take flight on the wind.

    This is what I’ve learned from dandelions.   Although it’s hurtful to be overlooked and feel unwanted, it’s important to be true to yourself.  Though some people may not appreciate you, there are others (remember the bees) who can’t wait to see you.  Don’t ever forget that you are a thing of beauty.

    Dandelions don’t quit.  Just ask any gardener who pulled up one only to have two more reappear.  It’s important to stay strong even in the harshest environments, just like the dandelion on the side of the cliff.  Sure, some people may spray you with insults and try to rip your dreams away but don’t let them.  Stay strong and keep moving forward to your dream.

    Dandelions are healthy.  Sure, I love ice cream (I mean, really love ice cream), but it’s important to stay active, fit and healthy.  Besides, it’s easier to work towards a dream when you are physically strong. It is essential to be just as strong mentally and emotionally.

    All things come to an end eventually.  But everyone, even if they aren’t an artist, wants their legacy to continue on when they’re gone.  Create something that can continue to live. It can be a piece of art. It could also be a tradition that will be passed to generations to come.  Much like the seeds of a dandelion dancing on the wind, you will continue to fly.

    Roses are beautiful.  So are tulips, calla lilies and a thousand other flowers.  But the dandelion, for me, has the most to offer.  Be a dandelion.  Be fearless.  Be strong.  And never stop growing.

  • To Be Brave

    To Be Brave

    My dream is to inspire people. I want people to see me as someone who doesn’t give up. I want to be seen as someone who believes in herself. I am living my life, not just muddling through it. I want someone to say to themselves, ‘I did this because Kelly showed me how to work hard. She taught me how to stand up after a fall. She also showed me how to spread my wings.’

    I hope my life reflects this, and I’m just not projecting Crazy Cat Lady vibes. I know I’m intense and unintentionally intimidating. I work hard and I’m quiet. But for some, quietness equates intimidating and suddenly I’m intimidating. And when my love of cats is known, I pick up the Crazy Cat Lady label. Cats and the love of cats are tragically misunderstood, but that’s a topic for another time.

    I was born Kelly the Brave. It didn’t become official until 2022. That year, I took my first ever solo trip to Ireland. Believing in yourself is brave. Creating an international itinerary is brave. Traveling alone is brave. Kelly is brave.

    Does that automatically mean Kelly is Inspiring? Does bravery equate inspiration or is inspiration a byproduct of bravery? I’m over-thinking again, aren’t I?

    It’s so important to step out of ones comfort zone, to try something different and to believe in yourself. That takes bravery, especially knowing that you have to pick yourself up again.

    I want my life to inspire others to create a beautiful life for themselves, despite the setbacks we all face. I want to live a life worthy of the name Kelly the Brave.

    Self portrait in Ireland 2022
    A courageous selfie of Kelly the Brave, embodying strength and inspiration. Photograph taken in Ireland, September 2022.