When I felt the call to photograph my wound, I started to think about what an exaggeration of my pain would look like, feel like, how I could use everything in the photograph to tell the story of my rage, my sadness, the shattering of my soul.

"My deepest fear became my inspiration: Rejection.  I was terrified I would be rejected by everyone and end up alone... a bag lady on the streets." The experience was transformational. It was easy to call up the pain because it was always close by, waiting for attention. So it knew what to do. And I released it. Right there. Right into the camera.

When I got home and started looking at the photographs the most beautiful thing happened. My heart leapt as I saw myself, my spirit, and my body in so much pain. I started sobbing once again – I wept for myself, my pain and suffering, for the old dreams and old ways of being that were so painfully stripped away. And in that moment I was overwhelmed with a tender kindness and a deep love for myself. A deep surrender into acceptance.

"The never-ending well of grief that rejection drops me into allowed me to discover my worth: a deep knowing of love. First, from myself to myself, then to others, and ultimately to a deeper understanding of world's love for me.