Frost in the morning

©2014 Cara Herbert

I See Love Everywhere

©2012 Cara Herbert 

A poem: New

Like kids alone in a dark lit place,

New feelings swirling and coming to rest.

All sight and sound, all touch and taste,

Losing ourselves till there is none left…

In passion, all our hope is spilt.

A brush of the lips with hooded eyes,

Stone on silk, the touch still felt, 

And in the wake, new, we arise.

©2014 Cara Herbert

the first blog

I’m really not sure what the main focus on here will be… my photography…  the ramblings of a wild woman… my very tall soap box… we shall see.

I’ve blogged before, but never on Tumblr, so, for my very first blog~ a little about me.

I used to write a lot.  I wrote several times for UIL events in school, and always placed well.  Persuasive writing, mostly, and very convincing.  I used to write stories.  Actually, they were partial stories… because I would just start writing without any brainstorming and then lose interest when I wasn’t sure where to go at some given point.  I wrote poetry and lyrics.  Beginning when I was in junior high, I compiled a “slicker” full of hundreds of songs.  HUNDREDS.  I wish I still had them.  I even composed music on guitar for one of them when I was in high school.  I was convinced that I was going to perform at Lillith Fair- with my one song. I would write letters.  If I got upset with someone, I usually wrote what I was feeling in a letter to them.  It was the only thing I could think to do to truly express myself, an uninterrupted soul purging. You never questioned where I stood. 

When I got divorced from my first husband, I tried my hand at writing a book about the emotions that came along with a gritty situation like that.  It  was meant to be somewhat funny, with poignant undertone.  When I read what I had begun writing to myself, it was clever and honest.  The poor guy who read the first little bit found it a little depressing.  I have a somewhat dry sense of humor.  How to translate that into print?  I guess if I were a comedian, I’d be one of those you either hated or loved.  No in between.

Aside from little notes here and there to people on birthdays, etc, the last time I wrote something meaningful was in 2008.  My father was dying of cancer.  His body had gone from somewhat robust to eaten up with disease overnight.  It was about halfway through his 3 month prognosis, when he was still “with us” and knew who I was, that I wrote him a letter.  This letter was full of sorrow and love and repentance. Of forgiveness and hopes and promises.  Another soul purging.  My father did not have to question where I stood.  And like he did so well, we never spoke of it.

All of this to say, I guess I’m going to start writing again.  Probably poetry.  And you might hate it.  But you’ll know where I stand.


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My earliest human memory is riding in my stroller at Six Flags.  Or I think it is… I believe all of my earliest memories are from about the same time, but I don’t know for sure which happened first… because i was a small child and didn’t pay attention to time in general.

©2011 Cara Herbert

Pick up your cross and follow Him

That’s me.

©2013 Cara Herbert

These photos are my trial in focusing on the specific  things that make someone beautiful.

©2012 Cara Herbert