Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…


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Crossing over.

We felt like we knew a secret. Decoding DKNY. Donna Karan New York. She was one of the first designers displayed as you entered City Center in downtown Minneapolis. My mom and I thought it was like entering the magic kingdom. The greatest part was that we shared the key.

We spent most of our time in the designer sections. We couldn’t afford to buy it. We couldn’t afford to miss it. We tried on everything. And the matching shoes. It was never about having, it was about seeing. Experiencing. Adoring, not only the clothes, but this time together.

Yesterday, walking in Aix en provence, I was listening to a podcast. It was the designer that first helped Donna Karan launch her brand. They were both just starting out. Both New Yorkers, with all the love that entails. The designer listened as Karan expressed her love for New York, as they sat under the Brooklyn Bridge. It reminded him of the story of why he was in love with this city. As a young boy, his grandfather — a fishmonger — would bring him to this bridge in the middle of the night. They set up for the early morning sales. His grandfather gave him this bridge. Gave him this dream. With this beating inside of him, it was so natural, so easy for him to create the branding for Donna Karan. He included the image of the bridge. The words New York. And gave birth to both of their careers.

I imagine my mother, sitting in my grandfather’s pickup. Sweaty legs against the vinyl seat, at the last stoplight before turning into town. Waiting anxiously for him to put the truck into gear, place his foot on the gas, and take her across the “Brooklyn Bridge” of her heart and into the city of Alexandria.

He took her to Alex. She took me to Minneapolis. I eventually took her to New York. Love always leads us. Helps us cross over, to the beauty that lies ahead.

No dream left unspent.


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Crossing over.

Crossing over.

I write a lot about being brave. Some people might think, wow, she is never afraid. (insert nervous laugh here). That is hardly the case. There is no bravery without being afraid. And that’s what makes being brave even more miraculous!

In anxious times, it can feel like I’m “on the ledge.” And I often heard, even repeated, oh, I have to talk myself off the ledge. But I realize now that I have to forget about the ledge. If you talk yourself down, the ledge is still there, with no real answers. So what is the answer? I started looking at the different situations not as ledges, but as bridges.

A bridge. Still a bit of the unknown, but a choice.

And it’s all about the choices we make. We can choose to stay or to cross over. We are offered these bridges as gifts. It’s not always easy to dare to cross over, to get through, to get beyond… but it is a choice. So many rivers to cross. And with one step, we choose… we decide to love, to be loved…
we decide that we are actually worthy of the giving and receiving… we choose to live…and we cross over… we cross over to the beauty that lies ahead. What a journey!

Paul Cezanne wrote to his brother about the Pont des Trois Sautets — “There, there is more freshness…” More than a century later, I crossed this bridge to begin my new life in France, my fresh new life. People often ask me, weren’t you afraid to move there? The decision was not a ledge, I say, it was a bridge.