{"id":3026,"date":"2021-06-07T07:14:07","date_gmt":"2021-06-07T11:14:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/?p=3026"},"modified":"2021-06-07T11:37:47","modified_gmt":"2021-06-07T15:37:47","slug":"altered-horizons-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/altered-horizons-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Altered Horizons 3"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-size: 12pt;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-3027 size-large\" title=\"Altered Horizons 3 Robin Botie of Ithaca, New York, photoshops the texture of life in the things her daughter who died left behind. \" src=\"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon-702x1024.jpg\" alt=\"Altered Horizons 3 Robin Botie of Ithaca, New York, photoshops the texture of life in the things her daughter who died left behind. \" width=\"702\" height=\"1024\" data-popupalt-original-title=\"null\" srcset=\"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon-702x1024.jpg 702w, https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon-206x300.jpg 206w, https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon-768x1120.jpg 768w, https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon-617x900.jpg 617w, https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon-624x910.jpg 624w, https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/06\/AH3RobotMoon.jpg 987w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 702px) 100vw, 702px\" \/><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: 12pt;\">My daughter was the texture in my life. Our relationship was a rocky one: gravelly and spongy, sticky and slippery, blistering and subdued, grating and yet grooving. She could make me bristle with rage; she could make me sparkle, percolating with pride. She dented me. And she melted my heart to oozy mush when she smiled at me, her eyelids iridescent with smoky pearl shadow.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: 12pt;\">When my daughter died my grief was heavy frozen concrete. For a long while, I gathered up feathery flea-bits of memories from the dark depths of sorrow. There was no sense to be found. Only things. The stuff she left behind. Jagged shards, shiny trinkets, and fuzzy stuffed things. What they looked like, what they felt like, and how they made me feel. It\u2019s the texture of life that still keeps me engaged. Believing there\u2019s peace and beauty yet to be discovered, I watch the sky for the next super moon, to witness its light kissing the world below.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My daughter was the texture in my life. Our relationship was a rocky one: gravelly and spongy, sticky and slippery, blistering and subdued, grating and yet grooving. She could make me bristle with rage; she could make me sparkle, percolating with pride. She dented me. And she melted my heart to oozy mush when she [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2254],"tags":[2259,705,2271,976,294,2265,2262,2270],"class_list":["post-3026","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-a-h","tag-coping-with-change","tag-dealing-with-depression","tag-fabricated-landscapes","tag-grief-and-loss","tag-photography-for-healing","tag-photoshopped-landscapes","tag-possibilities","tag-upended-life"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3026","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3026"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3026\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3026"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3026"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3026"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}