My entire life I have been drawn to the bird as a beautiful symbol of different ways that I viewed myself and the world around me. When I was about twelve years old I remember writing one of my first poems. It was about a little bird that was caught in a tree but didn’t know how to fly yet. During college, I very seriously considered getting a tattoo after a semester I spent abroad in Orvieto, Italy—the first time in my life I felt that I truly was able to fly. I imagined imprinting an image on my body to symbolize that significant period of my life, with an open bird cage (to represent the bondage of sin, depression, expectations of others, my struggles with the desire for perfection, baggage that I’d carried with me, etc.) and a bird flying away from the cage (learning what it meant to walk in grace, coming out of the valley of depression, acceptance of myself, forgiveness for past hurts/pains, etc.). When my husband and I got married last October, we FILLED the hall where we held the ceremony and reception with hundreds and hundreds of ivory origami paper cranes. My dear friend Chelsea and I spent months folding their wings, their beaks, their gracefulness, and we strung them around the room, filled mason jars, and adorned the tables with these beautiful birds that to me represented the sweetest love and greatest hope I’d ever known.
|(photocredit: Kristen Scott, http://www.the2654project.com/)|