I get extra journal pages in my weekly planner for ideas and lists and downloads of scripture I am supposed to verily say unto thee. With those extra pages I get frags. This week’s extra:

A passion I have set aside is my self-portrait work, my Tinas. For those of you who were not around for my 366 Days of Self-portraits project, I nicknamed my photographs Tinas because they are/were not selfies. TINAS = This Is Not A Selfie.

I think this frag was a whisper that it’s time to feed my passion again. Maybe not on the daily but the process of visually documenting and reporting is good work which inspires and enlivens. I like that word, enliven. I like enlivened work. I like enlivened living. See how the passion is already building?

I practiced a little on Friday night. I wasn’t thrilled with the result. The flowy peasant tunic I wore over my aqua britches wasn’t sheer enough for the light. There was too much tenting of the fabric to produce an ethereal effect and it just flattened out and widened my torso. You can’t tell at all that my hair is in a ponytail. The flowy sleeves puffed out around my upper back instead of draping gracefully. This isn’t what I had in mind when I attempted the shot. To get the shot I wanted I’d have to change clothes. And I’d have to hurry before I lost the light.

But here’s the thing. I felt so fantastic when I took this. I felt fantastic the whole day leading up to this. I adore this peasant blouse; it laces up the front for heaven’s sake! It feels so good on my skin. I love the mandalas all over it. The colors are therapeutic. My uniform has been boho tunic over leggings for the last six months and it makes me feel like a wellness superhero. Seriously, that’s how good I felt. Indomitable. Spectacular. Luminous. That yellow rose clipped into my ponytail was a mini-crown. I was invincible on Friday. My boss closed the office at noon so I had just come inside from basking in the bright afternoon sunshine with my dog and the songbirds and everything blooming around me. I knew the full moon was on her way up in a few hours. I was floating on serenity when I came inside and saw the light coming through my dining room window.

Perfect moment for Tinas, I thought. My critical eye wants to call the photograph a fail for all the reasons listed above but this is good practice.

Good practice.

Yes. I’m leaving it this way in all it’s wrongness and rightness. I’m grinning to myself that no one but me will look at this photo and have any clue how powerful and marvelous I felt when I took it. It’s like a secret. Everyone else will be distracted by the things that seem off. They won’t be able guess the truth. I could have lifted a car that day. I could have rearranged the plants that day. I was supernatural that day. Maybe it’s better that no one suspects. Like wearing sexy underwear under sweatpants, the passion is enlivened even if no one else notices, which is why I trust it. And why it’s so potent.

— Mercy