Chapter Two - Lavender

Lavender. The second chapter in the poetry collection Morning Air, Morning Light. This is the chapter, laced with patience and steeping with self-reflection. Lavender evokes the pause and gentle thought–the third-party perspective. 

You can order your copy of Morning Air, Morning Light here - all orders from this site are signed at no additional cost. I can't wait for you to read it!

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g e n e s i s ( e x c e r p t )
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It was a radical debut, 
escaping the sharp teeth of addiction, 
that lurked in the shadows of surrounding–
now in the place of rehabilitation.

A few bad habits lingered,
pruned away,   
and as my empathy grew, 
I became apathetic towards the dissipating detachment. 

I was no longer fastened to the flaws–
instead, 
the opportunity of redemption renewed. 

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'g e n e s i s'   a c k n o w l e d g e m e n t s
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Starring // Sarah Neff
Written + read // Regan Smith
Film // Elizabeth Miller
Music // Ricky Smith
Mix // Jeremy Claudio

Update No. 2

Morning Air, Morning Light: Update No. 2

I’m nearly finished a large fraction of my forthcoming poetry book, Morning Air, Morning Light. As I was writing the initial chapter, I found that it was necessary for me to take time to cope, time to heal, after writing some memories. Uncovered were some wounds that I thought had been healed that needed additional care. I mentioned a bit of this struggle I encountered when I first attempted to tackle this chapter, within Update No. 1. Successfully finishing this chapter has been very challenging but eye-opening in the best way. 

I visited my family in Colorado a few weeks ago; this is the environment where majority of this first chapter takes hold. It was a bizarre feeling. It was as though I was a third-party onlooker—towards a scene of a familiar setting, yet I was displaced.  Although I did grow up within this area and lived here for majority of my life, but my perspective has changed so drastically.  I no longer feel as though I’m connected or rooted within its soil. The air lingered the same way, the mountains were still a rocky red with pines scattered across its crown. Everything seemed the same, I am just different.

Now that I have been wrapping up this portion of poetry, I anticipate exponential progression to arise. Extensive essays have been already penned for the proceeding chapters, awaiting revisions and updates. Some of these letters shared on Introspective Collective will make an appearance, but will be re-worked and revised. They will be interlaced with new knowledge I've stumbled across, in both the literary and perspective sense. 

I have recently been traveling through these stories stage-by-stage until completion, which has proved more effective in pursuing development. This has been immensely encouraging and entices so much excitement. Those that have written a book may know—it is a long, patient process. 

I thank you for checking in on the development of Morning Air, Morning Light. I can promise that this momentum will continue to build—blocks of time are designated specifically for this project amidst my 40+ hour work week. This is also why there has been such an absence in letters posted, but I thank you for continuing to follow and check up despite the drought of activity. I thank you, reader, for being here.

The best is yet to come. 

Update No. 1

Morning Air, Morning Light: Update No. 1

I have begun writing the first chapter of my poetry book—Morning Air, Morning Light. Although this book will contain a few pieces that remain accessible through this site, I have begun delving deep into dark times I’ve experienced in the past to compose this initial chapter. 

As I’ve been writing these lengthy poems to depict the earlier stages of my life, I notice that they spill onto the paper without reservation. The words bring me back towards memories that I’ve blocked out and play like a dark, painful parody within my mind. 

I revisit the recollections that have been quarantined. Each word penned tears away an unyielding nail from the boards which hide away an abandoned door that I rarely acknowledge. 

These experiences are raw and honest, evoking emotions that I haven’t endured in years. Although it’s almost unfathomable that this was at once the present time, I would have never expected my current state to be so vastly different. Embedded in my life now—a wonderful husband and family, supportive friends and a God that is ultimate—was a foreign thought in my previous condition. 

Through these poems, I am able to uncover the beauty of progress and healing. I am able to write through these distressing flashbacks without being overcome with anxiety. This is because I know that there is a God with overruling grace who provides comfort through any situation. 

Regardless of the grief and despair that’s exposed to me while writing these memories, with a solemn heart I will share them with you. They may be soothing words to your wounds—the areas within your mind that you rarely visit due to bitterness, anguish or anxiety. I am reminded that my words may be another’s healing, and that is more than enough encouragement to press forward. 

Morning Air, Morning Light will be available in Winter of 2017. Until then, I will maintain my letters and notes (as well as some status progression updates) through this site. If you feel drawn to catch these posts, I’d encourage you to enter in your email through the “Subscribe” block towards the bottom of this page. As always, reader, thank you for letting me share my heart with you.