Katie SwiftPHOTOGRAPHER
I once was afraid of the dressing room, the things I could not fit into. The lights, the mirrors, the mockery. A thousand girls made of magazines. A thousand friends with knives in their hands. A thousand sisters, a thousand demands. With shiny hair, poked out ribs and sunken in bellies. Staring, comparing they’d find me there and tell me:...
It was easy to see that cigarettes would kill me until I was nic’n for a smoke. And to have a candy bar until I was afraid of food and the sickening compulsion to make myself throw it up later. It was so easy to talk about how people are overmedicated until it was me...
I think the hardest thing about life is death. And I believe in Jesus, I believe in heaven. I believe that someday I will see my Nanny and Papa again. Cousin Joe, Uncle Jack, Marquis, and all the people. And really I can’t imagine not seeing them again. I don’t think I have enough faith...
I remember spending the weekend in the mental ward at Miami Valley Hospital. I was suicidal. And really it wasn’t like I had plans to kill myself…I just didn’t want to live anymore. So my doctor asked if she could pray for me and than I was admitted. The walls were padded and none of the doors...
I think the hardest thing is that no matter what I do I can’t make my my children happy. I try everything to entertain them: parks, pools, swing sets, popsicles, toys, gumballs, play-dates, preschools, you name it. It doesn’t work. They fight and they whine and they cry mommy mommy mommy. And I have a headache....
wake up take a shower brush your teeth pick out your clothes iron your shirt eat a bowl of cereal take your vitamins take out the trash make me coffee kiss me before you go work all day in a cubicle a family of frames do the bills schedule the appointments go to the post...
my Mama she’s daisies she bends down low you can cover her in concrete she’ll find a way to grow in between the cracks the grey and the black is where she loves to go my Mama she’s daisies she dances with the wind no matter if it’s raining she moves like a sacred hymn...
Faith feels. It’s not doctrine or theory taught in a fluorescent room somewhere. It’s not a quick fix for my problems, a medicine I can shove down my life, a simple slogan to cure my grief. It’s not the reason for war, to kill a man or to say that to my sister. It is...
When I was a little girl I did not have a daddy. I did not get spun or twirled and when I put on my pretty dresses I had no one to show them to. Now I am all grown up with a daughter of my own. And she has a daddy. And a lot...
My husband and I have a beautiful story of how we met and fell in love and eventually- very swiftly, got married. It’s the kind of story that makes movies. But I am not going to tell it today. Because the longer I am married, the more I realize that almost everyone has a beautiful...
Last thursday morning I was talking to my mom about all my plans and visions and great ideas. I have a new one about each week. I want to change the world and minister to all the people, And apparently, my mom does too. She told me something that just might change the world. Or...
My kids get hurt everyday. And they cry very loudly. They cry for their mommy and they cry for their daddy. Then they demand that we kiss it and make it all better. I am always amazed at the power of the kiss. We never grow out of pain. But many of us are taught...
Sometimes trusting God is like night driving. Moving through the darkness. Trying to make out the signs. With just enough light to see the road that’s before me.
“If you judge people you have no time to love them.” -Mother Teresa Grace begins in the mirror.
Our backyard is like a desert wasteland (minus the warmth and sunshine). I look out the kitchen window and expect to see a tumbleweed blowing by. It’s a big yard but we have no trees, no patio. We have a florida room made of aluminum that does not make me feel like I’m in Florida....
Sometimes the best way to describe parenting is through the children themselves. My son Jonah, for example just has a knack for expressing the Monday Morning Grumpies. No amount of reasoning, sweet talk or bribery can cure the grumpies. My son David shows the best way to react to these situations. Everyday I ask God...
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