amelia pontes

Do Not Worry

2015-10-16T08:20:00.002-04:00

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

Matthew 6:25-27

The First Summer of my 30's

2015-08-02T18:07:00.002-04:00

Top Down

Teachers

Summer and Salt Water

More than Work

Past vs Present/Polaroid vs Selfie-Stick

Well, I'm no longer in my late 20's. I am fully immersed into my 30th year of life and feel both as confused and certain of things as I did when I was pumping my legs on the old swing-set at the neighborhood park. My body and I have an intimate understanding of one another and my mood swings no longer knock me into a sense of bewilderment for days. When it's time to rest, my body is trampled with a cold that I can't shake with hot tea and vitamin C. The universe knows when it's time to take a break.

I feel more tired than ever, but yet also so ambitious and fearless. So, on Sundays like this when I wake up with no plans or obligations, I find myself wondering what should I be doing and with whom should I be doing it with. Life is passing by faster than ever and as the milestones keeping strolling right on by, and I'm just trying to maintain a sense of who I am.
---

Although today I am filled with questions, yesterday was filled with nothing but joy, sand and a selfie-stick. I am grateful for the women I met in my 20's: Those who were with me as I carved out a career in Youth Work and Mama-Bearing. Those who traveled with me to the greatest moments of my imagination; Harry Potter world and Greece and Hawaii and Costa Rica. Those who have sat in cafes with markers and sketch pads drawing out the maps to the future. Those who have helped me navigate the second half of my 20's with grace and confidence.

My 20's are over, but 30 is looking pretty promising, as long as I keep moving in the right direction with the best of the best along-side.

The first post is always the hardest. Here is to Sundays filled with more writing.

Dear Tessa: Listening to No

2015-03-21T16:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Tessa,

Last weekend, you told me no-- no less than 100 times. When I tried to comb your hair. When I tried to kiss your cheek. When I tried to change you into a diaper so that you wouldn't wet the bed during a nap. When I tried to make you lay down for that said nap. When I tried to make you sit down to eat the toast you asked for --You get the point.

What I struggled with is doing what I know is best for you (the food, the nap, the curl detangling) and honoring your right to say no. I want you to grow up to be a woman who feels confident in what she knows is best for herself, but how can I do that when I am trying to overpower you to do what I think is best? I am not sure how well I did this weekend in honoring your wishes. Even as you jumble up your words and are frustrated by my inability to understand, I hope you know that I hear you.

My hope for you is that as you grow older, and even as I push my own advice onto you, I will hear you. I will listen. I will ask questions to deepen my understanding of who you know yourself to be.

As you sat in the tub, asking me for, "Ten more minutes!" I had only offered two, but you knew best. You sang to your bath toys, "Along comes Mr. Alligator quiet as can be... SNAP! That monkey right outta that tree!" Finally you were ready, when you pulled out the drain stopper. Wrinkled, cold and scared of the sound, you called for my help. I wrapped you up into the towel like a caterpillar in its cocoon and called you my little butterfly. You nestled your wet curls into my neck and perched yourself into my arms.

You knew when you were ready. I'll hold onto this moment as you grow older and the risks, decisions, and possibilities of mistakes become bigger. We all do things in our own time, even when you're two years old. I promise to be patient with your requests, knowing that whether it takes you two minutes or ten, two years of twenty, you'll figure it out just like the rest of us.

Thank you for being my favorite (and cutest) teacher.

xoxo,
Tia

Currently Reading: Ruby by Cynthia Bond

2015-02-25T09:04:00.000-05:00

Read just enough of it to read the following line and to feel the sense of relief that in this crazy, messed up world that being even half-way sane is an accomplishment:

"They are all kinds of crazy. Some folk drink themselves so stupid. Others so empty, gluttony take they belly hostage. And some get so full of hate, it like to crack they soul. Hell, ain't nothing strange when Colored go crazy. Strange is when we don't." (p. 71)

It's Oprah's Book Club selection, but this book deserves the hype for the way it explores the effects of racism and violence on the mental wellness and health of oppressed people. So, when the stories of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown have us waking up feeling sick to our stomachs or have us running into the streets wanting to scream at the top of our lungs, this story reminds us that racism has been driving us crazy long before we knew to name it as such.

And so with that, I am going back to reading. What are you all reading right now?

Sidenote: Thank you to all of those who are still reading! I am trying to get back in the rhythm and figure out what this space will be now. If you have any ideas of what you want to see here, write them in the comments! xoxo

7 Things Before 7am

2015-02-24T07:06:00.000-05:00

1. I bought two bras that almost equal half my paycheck. Someone told me that in my 30's I needed expensive undergarments. I am starting early--little sister complex.

2. Read a bit of Oprah's new Book Club selection, Ruby, and instantly felt depressed by the state of my writing.

3. Put an english muffin in the toaster over and didn't burn it. The past few months I have been eating black toast because of my negligence.

4. Proof-read someone else's work.

5. Thought about quitting my job.

6. Decided I need my job to pay for the expensive bras.

7. Drank a cup of coffee.

The (Conditional) Love Letter

2015-02-15T10:23:00.000-05:00

Dear Me,

I must confess, my love for you is conditional and not undying. It fades in and out like the flicker of a candle.

I love you most when your cheeks sit high on your face, perched on a throne above your nose.
I love you most when your jaw line is so sharp that it could slice an apple.
I love you most when your eye makeup is smudged and unkept.
I love you most when you get all of the right answers.
I love you most when when you know all of the song lyrics to our favorite song.
I love you most when you pacing through the city streets searching for the perfect spot to be alone.
I love you most when you are in front of a crowd talking about the power of love, care, and understanding to change the world.
I love you most when you are sitting quietly at a desk typing away and lost in a thought.
I love when you are alone and the should's disappear, but the could's open up the possibilities.

But, I love you most when you are so deep living that the days melt together and all you have is Purpose.

Let's find that place together, okay?

(Conditionally) Love(d),
Me

Post.

2015-02-10T19:18:00.003-05:00

You'll chop your hair off. You'll dye it blue-black. You'll look in the mirror hoping that the right combination of charcoal eyeliner and swept-off-the-face bangs will remind you of who you used to be. You'll put on the black leggings, the black dress, and the black thigh-high boots; the uniform that used to feel like armor. You'll hope that the reflection in the dirty mirror will become recognizable once again. You're not searching for happiness or even sadness, just probing for the honest body that used to greet you on those cold mornings before you had a long to-do list filled with mind-numbing busy work.

The room will be quiet. The TV will be muted and paused. The playlist silenced. It is here, without a picture to be taken or a word that must be said, that you will feel it again. You will feel what it is like (again) to uncover purpose, to complete an intention, and to do the things that you said you wanted to do. You will remember that the only limitation to your capacity is your unwillingness to do the things you love.

I should have never stopped blogging and/or writing, but this isn't a place where we kick ourselves down. It's a place where you pick yourself up, put on a pretty dress, and say, I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I did exactly what I was supposed to. I am doing exactly what I was meant to be doing. Now, let's do this.

Let's Try This Again...

2014-08-17T09:09:00.001-04:00

There's been an itch to start blogging again. With work and the last year of my 20's creeping into my life, it has been extremely difficult to sit down and write. And the difficulty isn't from a lack of time, but rather, running away from the true reflection it takes to put thoughts and feelings down. Yet, I know it's important that I am writing and being honest about where I am right now.

And so, let's hope that we can start over again.

Alignment.

2014-02-04T13:36:00.003-05:00

Not the kind you get flat on your stomach at a chiropractor, like my friend Nikki assumed, but the kind of alignment where every step and thought in your day is put in motion through a purpose. I search for alignment in outfit choices, hairstyles, home decor, and even in my food (i.e. this never-ending 30 Day Vegan Challenge).

In a constant state of self-improvement, I pine through Pinterest, articles from Oprah.com, and in the hundreds of blogs that I follow for the holy grail. In that never-ending search for a "better me," I seem to come up empty and with the same old me, just with clearer skin.

New shoes and a new bronzer (I am dying over Mac's Gold Deposit, fyi) are great temporary fixes, but soon I find myself at my desk or on the couch feeling unfulfilled. I took a couple of days off of work and threw some money down for a two night/three day stay at a hotel a few train stops from my house. I highly suggest this to anyone who, like me, is extravagant and self-absorbed.

Being alone gives me time to think. No distractions. No expectations. And only one question to answer: "What the FUCK am I doing with my life?"

Here are my answers, thus far:

1. Figuring shit out.
2. Taking selfies.
3. Eating more green stuff.
4. Growing my bangs out.

5. Getting my nails filled.
6. Reading articles.
7. Not following a writing schedule.
8. Helping babies.
9. Putting together a presentation for a national conference.
10. Fighting the patriarchy; one micro-aggression at a time.

What are you doing with your life?

Vegan Week 2

2014-01-25T21:22:00.004-05:00

Technically 13 days.

something blue.

2014-01-21T22:13:00.000-05:00

trying something new.

Recipe: Vegan Girl

2014-01-19T17:46:00.002-05:00

How to Make a (temporary)Vegan

1 cup of Impulsivity

1 cup of Too Many Documentaries on Netflix

3 tablespoons of Fear

A pinch of fandom for Jay Z and Beyonce

1 teaspoon of some psychic wisdom

Stir them up and you've got a girl sitting on the porch of her rented vacation condo who makes the decision to go vegan. There really is no rational reason for someone to give up grilled cheeses and relish and mustard topped hot dogs when they don't have to. But I'll be honest, when I got my annual physical this past October, I was bracing myself for high blood pressure or early on-set diabetes. With a family history and my own personal love for cupcakes and caramel swirl in my Dunkin' Donuts coffee, I thought the lab results were going to have me searching for a coffin for an early death.

I came away with a clean bill of health and I threw my hands to the gods. Fast forward a few months and a little investigation and I was ready to take on a new challenge.

Impulsivity

Trying new shit is fun and entertaining. I'm not much for jumping off cliffs or moving halfway across the world, but trying a new lifestyle... is my thang. I'm only doing this for thirty days. I figure that is enough time to try it out, hate it, accept it, then move forward.

Too Many Documentaries on Netflix

Chickens too fat to walk? Vegetables sprayed with something I can't pronounce to make them ripen? How do I avoid that?

Fear

I still don't know what caused Victor's cancer. The doctors don't know. It was stomach cancer. Is it our air? Hair products? Cell phones? Food? Water? No one knows for sure. His death was horrible, depressing, and unbelievable. Yet, the idea that a relatively healthy 30 year old could be so sick is beyond terrifying. I don't think it's preventable and his sickness was not caused by something he did or didn't do, but something is killing us. Is it wrong to think that it might be the food?

Fandom

I dismissed Jay Z and Beyonce's 22 Day Vegan Challenge as some privilege laden activity, but what if it wasn't? What if the Illuminati had given them some secret knowledge about how to live forever?

Psychic Wisdom

I visited a psychic in November who told me that I would meet my future husband at a farmer's market or somewhere with lots of produce. Ummm... veggies and a man? Sign me up.

2014.

2014-01-02T18:14:00.001-05:00

tiny heart.

2013-11-03T18:53:00.000-05:00

Boston: "This Is Our Fahking City"

2013-11-03T18:23:00.002-05:00

We lined the streets with Dunkin' cups filled with more than just the usual coffee, inhaled some guy's cigarette smoke, and choked up over the feeling of winning (another) championship. The Red Sox isn't just a baseball team, it's an indoctrination, a culture, and a way to bond with your fellow neighbors. In elementary school, teachers ban Yankees attire and congratulate you if you skip school to attend opening day with your parents.

No big lights. Not enough brown people. Too many wise-asses. A too expensive, useless public transportation system. And yet, this city is special. There is something about being from here that makes you feel like you belong. Put on the "B" hat and get a drunken stranger's cheer and fist pump thrown in your face.

Boston isn't strong because of the way it recovered post-terrorism last year. Character doesn't get produced in the face of tragedy, instead it's revealed. Boston is Strong because, well, it just fahking is.

What Rhymes With Hug Me?

2013-10-29T14:41:00.002-04:00

Still don't know if this was a costume, a gimmick, or just humanity at its best, but we could all use some more hugs.

sixty-three

2013-10-27T09:09:00.001-04:00

I can't believe someone in this picture is sixty-three. The matriarch.

Dear Tessa: Only Boring People Get Bored/Happy Birthday

2013-10-14T19:25:00.002-04:00

Dear Tessa,

On your first birthday, while you are wobbling around corners and into the places that have your father on the verge of an anxiety attack, I want to talk to you a little bit about the word BOREDOM. The formal definition states simply: "The state of feeling bored."

Oh my little peanut, this is one of those feelings that I encourage you to steer clear of, as it is much more than just a state of mind. It is, indeed, a character flaw.

Boredom infects those who have lost hope. Those who have stopped asking questions. Those who have given into the notion that the world is a stagnant place that we do not have the power to change. At the age of twelve or so, you will start to say, "I'm bored," when your parents have taken away your cell phone, your homework is done, and/or when your favorite shows aren't on television.

Before you utter such vulgarity, I want you to think of this beautiful word: Create.

The most interesting people that have graced this world have been those who resort to the art of creation when they find a few free moments to spare. My mother, your VoVo, used her time to cook the meals and bake the cakes for her family. Stirring pots and mixing ingredients to conjure up the aromas that had us running into the kitchen licking bowls and sneaking tastes on tiny forks.

Others have designed inventions and solved mathematical equations. Have written the melodies that you'll hum while tucking the sheets of your bed. Have painted the canvases that grace the walls of museums. Have thrown rocks on a roaring river and counted the skips. Taken long walks in the rain, barefoot, and open-hearted. Each of these things were done when someone had nothing to else to do.

Tessa B, you are going to create something wonderful someday. In just 365 days, you have had our entire family spinning in a love that did not exist before October 14, 2012. How amazing is that?

Boredom is not a problem, it's an opportunity to make, to build, to solve, to dream, and to find yourself. And when you can't think of anything to do, here are some ways to be creative:

When we are still enough in both body and mind and to get lost in an adventure, to make mistakes, and seek to understand something new, we can create. My love, so when you are bored and can think of nothing else to do, call me. Know that hearing your voice will put a smile on my face that wasn't there before. You are the best of the creations that I have encountered

I love you. Tongue wagging and all.

Love,
Tia

P.S. Here are some practical ways to be creative:

1. Pick a word, look up its definition, and doodle in a blank paged Moleskine about it.
2. Sing in the mirror to your favorite song.
3. Teach yourself something; attempt to solve a challenging chemistry conversion or learn how to tie a sailor's knot.
4. Play with makeup.
5. Make and edit your own artsy video.
6. Cut an image out of a magazine and write your own article about it.
7. Bake a cake from scratch.
8. Interview an older relative, as if they were a complete stranger. Ask personal questions. Ask about the hardest times in their life. Ask about what has brought them the most joy.
9. Take pictures of all of the items in your bedroom. Which ones represent you? Which ones can you do without?
10. Plant a seed.

Where Have I Been?

2013-09-21T18:01:00.000-04:00

In one short sentence: Kicking life's ass.

The longer story:

1. Witnessing holy unions.
2. Hounding my good friend and amazing writer Nikki for more tips about how to enhance the social media presence of my organization.
3. Learning HTML and plucking out the gray hairs I've been getting from it.
4. Hugging babies so tightly that their ribs may burst against my belly.
5. Listening closely to that little voice inside me that says, "You can do it."
6. Ignoring those big, loud voices that say, "What's the point of doing it?"
7. Being kinder, friendlier, and warmer to those who work with me and failing miserably.
8. Trying to end my peanut butter fudge addiction.
9. Pounding my sandals into the pavement of the city as the summer air slips.
10. Meditating on these words: Anything is Possible.
11. Reconciling with old friends; extending olive branches over glasses of wine and cocktails.
12. Wearing less bronzer and more concealer.
13. Painting a bedroom wall silver.
14. Day dreaming about my New Year's trip to Hawaii (FUCK YEAH).
15. Asking the question, "What's next?"

More Love.

2013-09-02T13:22:00.000-04:00

My cousin got married to her long time beau yesterday by the water in Gloucester. Of course, the Pontes posse came dressed to the nines. Can't miss an opportunity to wear something pretty.

Cousins. Cousins. Cousins.

The shoes.

Before the wedding, taken from Instagram.

Snake Eyes

2013-09-01T09:27:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I am impressed by my own ability to get over some serious fears...for the sake of a picture.

And then there's the real me...

A Good Week

2013-08-30T19:57:00.000-04:00

Before the wedding and a mini-reunion. I picked up the dress on a Macy's clearance rack. Shoes are Enzo Angiolini. Size 11 and wide.

The girls after screaming the lyrics to Drake's "Started from the Bottom." The bride, the one in white, was killing it in her one shouldered freakum dress. T or F?

This picture takes me straight back to college. This is Papa John, he is kinda like Bill Cosby without the ugly sweaters.

Another brunch photo. The dress/tunic is from H&M plus. I pretty much wear it everyday. Sorry, not sorry.

Being a badass about painting an accent wall in the bedroom a metallic silver. I still need more paint after two coats, but I can't wait to see/live in the final results.

The Weekend

2013-08-27T10:56:00.004-04:00

A good friend of mine from college and beyond got married this weekend. The reunion that continued into the next day was absolutely wonderful and grounding. They're like family and a strong reminder of where you come from, who you are, and what you have the potential to become.

Sundays are not always fundays.

2013-08-11T20:28:00.001-04:00

Sundays are slow. Sips of strong coffee in between bites of buttered bread.

Sundays are putting on blush and a gold chain with no place to be; sitting crossed legged on a couch with brief bouts of article reading and naps. Sundays are camomile tea in a mug given to you by a sweet friend. Sundays are for reliving each moment of that

Jay Z concert at Fenway; looking up lyrics

(I'm anti-Santa Maria/The only Christopher we acknowledge is Wallace/I don't even like Washingtons in my pocket)

and experiencing that level of fandom reserved for teenage girls with glossy magazine tear-outs taped on their bedroom walls. Sundays are simple, but not always easy.

It's the day of rest and reflection on what you have made. Sometimes it's pretty and other times, you'll need to start over.

Sundays are throwing a figurative middle finger in the air for all the petty mistakes

(too much cake/not enough exercise/sending gossipy (unfounded) emails about his girlfriend)

and exhaling a fuck you alongside it. Sundays are forgiveness.

Sundays are the reset button of life.

At Fenway Park after the Legends of Summer show.

[You'll] Just Wanna Live Life Colossal

2013-08-05T10:24:00.000-04:00

↑↑↑ This baby is too quick and too curious. I spent my time with her on Friday trying to understand her little brain. Everything is new and an adventure. From mommy's polka dot baby bag to Tia's mouth and tongue, no place if off limits for her exploration. ↑↑↑

↑↑↑A walk with friends in one of Boston's open green spaces while the sun settled beneath the horizon was the perfect way to end a day of cupcakes and chatter. ↑↑↑

↑↑↑Rachel is simply amazing. Her mind works in questions. Never certain of anything, but grounded in her spirituality and grateful for life's blessings. Spend a few hours with her and you'll be fearless of the truth. Effortless with her style; she possessed swag before rappers rhymed it with every -ag word. A master in (with) luxury, she is full of purpose. A fly pair of shoes may get a squeal from her, but she saves her signature joy dances for good friends and family.

She should be your daughter's role model. ↑↑↑

↑↑↑In her small frame, Omaira packs a whole lot of punch and spirit. She may order you to grab her sunglasses out of the car compartment like you're one of her assistants, but you obey because you know she'd bend over backwards for you. Loyal and lovable, she lives life like a journey. No obstacle is too hard or too important to keep her stuck. She keeps it moving. Full of integrity and grit, we should all aim to possess the same amount of guts this woman has. ↑↑↑

↑↑↑ Just happy to be in their presence. ↑↑↑

↑↑↑ Bonded through blood, united in experience, Monica taught me about long drives with loud music. With a big heart and the best of intentions, she puts family first, always. She's the woman you'll want by your side when your heart gets broken or when you want to eat a good home cooked meal. She is comfort in a pretty dress and heels (always). ↑↑↑