Denver – katelyn skye bennett

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Author smiling a cheesy smile from the front seat of her car. The summer sun is reflected in her big, square, magenta sunglasses. Her purple lipstick almost matches them.

Evaluating my rose colored glasses

By: katelynskyebennett 2021-12-30

faith, Uncategorizedanxiety, counseling, Denver, depression, grounding techniques, journaling, mental health, Nairobi, nostalgia, rose colored glasses, suffering, therapy1 Comment

Personal reflections on nostalgia and depression.

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A hand holds a small wooden spoon designed with a giraffe on the handle. The backdrop is a flowery white wall.

November 9: My Giraffe Spoon (Makeup Post)

Once upon a time when I lived in Wheaton, I owned two wooden spoons like the one in this photo. When I moved to Denver, they came with me because they were my favorite. I mean, firstly, they are SPOONS, a.k.a. the best utensil, and secondly, they’re wooden. That’s just a great material, you know?…

Justice for Elijah McClain

By: katelynskyebennett 2021-09-032021-09-04

race and reconciliationAurora CO, Black Lives Matter, blacklivesmatter, Colorado, Denver, Elijah McClain, grief, indictment, justice, killing, newsLeave a Comment

Elijah McClain from Aurora was the essentially the same age as our Elijah in Denver, a few miles over. They were both young and smiling Black men with loving friends and family, and given his name and proximity, his killing hit closer to home. I took this photo earlier this summer, about two years after…

The Little Pinecone

By: katelynskyebennett 2021-01-30

Memoirs of the Treesapartment complex, Denver, faithfulness, God, goodness of God, hope, pinecone, resilience, symbolismLeave a Comment

It was my fruit that gave her hope. I dropped it for her that summer day on Asbury Avenue, there on the rutted sidewalk between the small houses, the ones with their driveway folding chairs and roadside recycling bins, and the four sets of apartment buildings toward the end of the road. That’s where she…

The beauty of the sacramental Church

Every Sunday, I am reminded of Christ’s love for me through the Body, broken for the forgiveness of sins. In the bitterness of the wine, I taste his agony in his blood shed for me.