It was the saddest Christmas eve

I thought of my dad the whole day. His voice, his memory, his laughter... It came to me in waves and I cried every time. I tried to hide it, but I know my mom knew. She didn't ask me to help with any of the cooking for the night, nor did she ask why I wasn't making any pies or desserts.

Having the family over at night was good. But my heart was still heavy.

Feliz navidad, papi. Como hubiera querido poder oir tu voz aunque sea por telefono.

Dos meses

It's been two months since my daddy died.

En lo mismo

Estoy otra vez en la misma encrucijada de siempre. De saber que estoy donde no quiero estar, donde mi potencial no toca ni el cielo falso, y sin embargo, sin poder volar. Como algun perico al que le han cortado las alas tantas veces que ya se le olvidó como se siente el aire bajo las alas.

Ya no aguanto este trabajo. Ya no aguanto esta ciudad. Y ya no aguanto no poder ser libre de hacer nada más. Lo que es peor, me preocupa como se me esta yendo la vida. Mi hoja de vida se quedó estancada y no se ni por donde empezar a ver donde la pongo en marcha. Lo mejor que me podría pasar es que la reforma migratoria pasara pronto. Eso, basicamente, es lo mejor que me hubiese podido pasar desde finales del 2006. Me siento invisible.

Versalles

Acabo de visitar mi casa en Versalles. Ya no era mi casa y mi papi ya no estaba ahi. Yo queria ver a Isaac, que según mi sueño, vivia en la primera planta. Yo entré por la segunda y habían unas personas ahi que yo no conocía. Después de tratar de sacarlos y de ponerlos en su lugar, comencé a caminar por la segunda planta, viendo lo que mi papi había dejado. No era mucho, pero encontré unos papeles. Y viéndolos me di cuenta que eran dibujos. La mayoría de dibujos eran mios, eran acuarelas. Pero ahi, entre mis dibujos, encontré unos de mi papi. Cuando los encontré me levanté de donde estaba y seguí caminando hasta que llegué a un escritorio, donde encontré unas fotos de mi papi.

Ahi fue cuando me desperté. Triste. Porque no puedo tener esa oportunidad de ver las cosas de mi papi, de decirle adios, de llorarlo. La gente aquí esperan que ya todo esté normal. Y a mí me duele el alma.

Adios en un sueño

Hoy hace un mes murió mi papi. El 11 de octubre del 2012 a las 12:10 pm. Me dijo Lidia, mi hermana, que él murió en paz, después de tomarse un coquito.

Creo que mi papi se vino a despedir de mi en un sueño. Soñe a mucha familia Gutierrez, en verdad. Y ahi estaba mi papi. Le pregunte acerca del nombre de mi abuelita Bertha (de lo que he estado hablando con una prima recientemente) y me dijo "Miriam Elena Hernandez (y aqui un segundo apellido del que no me acuerdo)" y yo lo escribí en papel con lápiz. "Lo estás escribiendo para que no se te olvide?" me preguntó. Y yo le dije que si.

Luego se fue. Dijo que iba a tomarse una siesta, como las que siempre se tomaba. Sus siestecitas de 10 minutos, que a veces terminaban siendo 20 minutos.

Cada persona que he amado y que ha muerto se ha despedido de mi en sueños. Cuando mi abuelita me llamó por telefono en sueño. Cuando María Inés (la china) vino a mi casa a tomarse un cafecito en mi sueños. Y luego April, que ya no mucho me acuerdo como es que ella se despidió, pero que si me acuerdo de haberla soñado. Esas tres veces han sido las últimas que he soñado a mis amados. A ver que pasa con mi papi, si lo vuelvo a soñar o no. Dreams of loved ones.

Descansa, papi.

Mi papi

Hoy por la mañana, mientras cae una tormenta helada, he recibido las noticias que he temido desde que me vine a este país, sin forma de volver a mi tierra, y se me ha quebrado el alma.

Me habló mi hermano, Mario.. el Tike, con voz sombría, y me dijo que mi papá falleció ayer.

Necesito un GPS de vida

I am currently lost.

I had been dreaming of lasik surgery for a few years, but that dream was shot. I was turned down for surgery this past week. Turns out, March 8, 2009 changed my life in more ways than one.

So now that I'm stuck to a pair of glasses for the rest of my life, or at least a few more years until there is a new development in lasik surgery business, I found myself sad and with nowhere to go. I'm pretty sure the drop in temperature from 80F to 33F has also something to do with this mood. I do know I want to make my life meaningful, but I don't know how. I used to have dreams of becoming things... college administrator, doctor, graphic artist, concert photographer. But my dreams have been dying one by one over the last 7 years. I'm bummed out and I don't know where to start rebuilding right now.

I have about 12 blank canvases around the house and I haven't even found the colors to paint them. This hasn't happened before. Ever. I need to rescue mysel. But I think this time I will allow myself to mourn the loss of these dreams that have died. I never allow myself to mourn anyone or anything. I hope I find something in those unexplored emotions that will kick me back to life.

October?

October 15th will mark a year since the last time I hugged my nephew and niece. My mom told me yesterday that she spoke on the phone with my nephew and he asked if she was at her house with "una amiga." She told him she lived with tia Berthis. "Tia Berthis? Ahhh... Where is tia Berthis?"

He didn't remember me.

He didn't remember me.

And if he didn't, how could I expect my niece to?


I called my daddy today. It was good to hear his voice. He was in Monzón and noted how it was Barbie's birthday the day he called. He remembered a little later. I love him. I wish my sister would talk to him too, I bet it hurts him.

"Good luck with your thing too"

I read an update from John Mayer this morning. He's gone through surgery and has to wait about 6 months before he's able to perform again. At the end of the note he wrote

"And I know I’m not the only person hoping that six months from now they’ll have a chance to do what they love so much, so good luck with your thing too." 

I like that he said that. I'm one of those people too, one of those hoping that in six months from now I'll have a chance to do what I love so much.

 It's hard. Living like this.

 This weekend I've gotten a couple of people either giving me advice or condolences. "Just pray," like I haven't done that for so long. I'm tired. No, I'm exhausted. Today I came to the office with puffy eyes. Everything, every time I get upset, it all seems to end at the fact that I am not free to just be. I want to find a job I love and that fulfills me. I want to have the liberty to at least have the chance to look for that job. I want to live on my own. I want to not live in fear and frustration. And I want to stop feeling guilty about not feeling grateful enough.

Sueños & Dreams

Being a fire-fighter, a swimmer, slim, helping students, traveling, paper planes, a music photographer, playing the guitar, music, love at sunset,

"Dreams don't have to be practical: that's why they're dreams." (from Pixar)

A dream of old friends and ceremonial stuff

I had another vivid dream. This time I woke up annoyed, and everyone in the dream was annoyed with me. I was at my old church in El Salvador. It was clear that I had been away for a few years, because everyone was grown and the place looked completely different (yet felt familiar). I had been hanging out on the 2nd level of the building and was wearing a fancy dress.. Some quinceañera type thing, but white... or cream. And I came to the main temple and everyone there looked bored. When they saw me come in they were like "finally! where have you been?" and then two of my friends and me when up on the podium... where couples usually get married, and just stood there. I don't know what kind of celebration it was, but I woke up and was so thankful I got out of that dream. It was so clear and so boring. I guess I'm not eager to go back to any church anytime soon.

Dreams!

Not the kind that drive you out of town, or make you go to college, or make you quit college to follow you passion and open a business and become a millionaire.

No.

I'm talking about the ones that make you travel when you sleep. Yes, make you travel. You go to new places, you meet new people, you experience crazy stuff. I've entered my vivid-dream cycle again. I never see it coming, but when it hits me it really hits me.

Babies talking, 80's clothes, scary buildings with killers, stairs to nowhere, theaters with screens on the ceiling, my dad, places I've lived in and places I've never been to.

I love these crazy dreams. Even when they're horror dreams. It's interesting to see what my mind is capable of.

Step One

I've been having headaches lately. I know it's because of all the weight I've put on in the last 18 months (after disregarding my health and diet). It was a dumbass move.

I don't want to die and look back to see that I always regretted the way I look without doing anything to fix things. So this is me. Fixing things. I'm going to start slow. Adding activity every day. I'm too tired and bothered with this headache to even finish this post.

Discipline. I know I have it in me.

Sleep depravation

The worst of its kind. I probably just got about 1.5 hrs total of "sleep" last night. The last month has been a roller coaster. From happy highs to the dark falls. Not sure it's time to open extra doors to my heart, after other doors just hit me in the face.

Still invisible.

Summer Love

I want to lay down on the grass with you. Stare at the sky, day or night.
Feel the summer night breeze.
I want us to have a small table. We'll use it to cook together.
I want to sit down for dinner and see you across the tiny table.
Let's laugh together.
Let's make popsicles and plan road trips.
Let's not worry about things. Things are not important.
We can walk around the park and have a picnic.
You can hold my hand, Love, as the fireflies rise from the ground to the summer sky.
I want to lay down on the grass with you. Stare at the sky, day or night.

The child of my mother

I'm a child of the moon. My mother told me about the beautiful moon she saw the night before I was born, it was waning and bright. So bright that she thought the sun was still out. She said that's maybe why I like the moon so much, because she welcomed me home.

I'm a child of the sun. My father taught me to visualize its light and send it to those I love, make the light shine from my heart to theirs. He taught me to greet the sun as it rose and as it died down with the day.

I'm a child of the ocean. My parents took me there to heal the wounds left from a foot surgery. Black night, black sand, black saltwater down my future scars, healing them and me.

I'm a child of the moon and the sun. I'm the child of my mother. I'm the child of my father.

http://cowbird.com/author/begutierrez/#!/27431

Hear the waves breaking

These waves breaking are 1572 miles away, seven weeks ago. I spent that Wednesday around Malibu Lagoon with my sister and a new friend, who taught me to watch for good waves.

The three of us are dreamers. The three of us are artists in different ways. We paint, we draw, we photograph, we stand on waves, we design, we see the colors in extra-vivid shades, we break and glue our souls back together.

There were stories in between waves. There was laughter... that was my favorite part.

He told us about the penguin he ordered on a website when he was little. The penguin that never came. "They said they were tropical penguins," he said between laughs, "but it never came!"

In life, sometimes not being OK is OK. What matters is who's next to you during those not OK times. 

http://cowbird.com/author/begutierrez/#!/26480

After seeing one of my paintings for the first time

I loved this conversation. Starting with what might be one of the best compliments a guy has ever given me:

SA: You've got big talent. He has no idea what he's getting into with you.
B: He doesn't! He doesn't know anything about me... He just knows I'm cute!
SA: But everyone knows that... That is a fact!

Memory marks

Some of my loved ones think of me when they see a beautiful sunset,
Some think of me when they see a postcard,
Others smile when they see Frida Kahlo and remember my deep appreciation,
There are some that see the waves and they call me to say hi.

It makes me happy. To think I can be present in the lives of those I love, without being there all the time.

Really nice compliments I've received this month

"You've got a good head on your shoulders"

"You're a good daughter"

"Hanging out with you has made me change my attitude"

Multiple exposures

It is not a photograph of a moment.

In my most recent escapade to the West, my film got stuck in a frame. I must have taken 30 shots on that one frame, maybe more.

I forgot what I tried to capture. Where I was. What I felt. Who was with me.

This one photograph holds time and a few stories of loved ones, strangers, city lights, country roads, the ocean, and maybe one of my reflections. It is all together, unrecognizable. Beautiful.

http://cowbird.com/author/begutierrez/#!/24477

Wired and semi-heartbroken

I need to do my ass a favor and never again drink coffee. Never. Ever.

The last two times I've had coffee have taken me to the same dead-end: Wide awake and feeling lonely. Doesn't help that both of those times I've been reminded that I've got no game.

I don't understand why I'm always just the friend-type. This horrible feeling at the top of my stomach, just below my heart.. like someone came to rip out my soul with winter-cold hands, it always comes to me. I've never been in a committed relationship, not because I've never wanted to. It's just that no one has ever wanted me. And that is a hard reality to confront. Specially, because I keep trying to examine myself to figure out what's wrong with me, but when I try to get an opinion from friends they always tell me I'm wonderful, and awesome, and a bunch of other adjectives that just leave me feeling more confused... Why do only my friends see that? I would make an awesome girlfriend. I'd make an amazing wife too, but that just seems like too much to ask from me, seeing that I have trouble getting to that first stage.

Last week, when the sleepless night happened, I wrote to my best friend about my feeling of hopelessness at not being able to attract anything other than a few flies. She wrote me back saying "I don't understand why you let something so insignificant affect you so much." Her words sent me to the pavement. The one person I thought would understand that I was talking about all these years of lonesomeness, was telling me my most recent rejection was insignificant. It was-- Had I been talking about that isolated instance, but I wasn't. I was trying to talk about my steady record of "not even enough to justify a heartbreak" love life.

"Dating is awesome," she continued, "you should open yourself up to it, it's a game." I died. I've never been closed to dating. I thought she knew this. But at that moment, all the years of pretending I am perfectly lonely (like the John Mayer song) were finally hitting me in the face. My best friend had no idea of what was really happening in my heart. There was a wall I had been building, the wall of "I'm fine on my own, I don't need anyone else" that really left everyone out, even those I intended to keep in. I had to step back and just swallow my feelings. There was, at that moment, no one in this world that could understand how I felt, and I was responsible for that.

Three days later, I had to take a solo-hike in a state park 50-minutes away from home just to clear my head. Don't talk to me about it being stupid or dangerous. Finding someone who would be interested in hurting me in the middle of those woods would had been just fine, at least it would be way better than the indifference I've grown accustomed to receive.

Going back to my self-analysis of a hopeless love life... Sometimes, I think it's all because of my excess-weight. But then I see people bigger than me, and less attractive (sorry, it's true) living perfectly normal love lives. And here I am, forever alone.

For a moment, I considered the option of dedicating a year of my life to meaningless one-night stands. But dropped the idea almost instantly, not only because I'm really worth more than that, but also because my heart could not take the blow of not even being able to attract the candidates for those pseudo-relationships.

I would even take a heartbreak. At least one, in my whole life. You know why? Because that would mean there was enough love coming back to me, to be deserving of a heartbreak. My real hope is that there is someone out there that will want to hike around this world with me. And listen to music with me. And laugh at dumb movies with me. And travel with me. And go to a John Mayer concert with me. More than that, I hope I get a chance to meet him.... and I really, really hope he hasn't been run-over by a truck or electrocuted. Because THAT would just be the cherry on top of this less-of-a-joke love life of mine.

The quintessential text convo with my hippie at 5:36pm yesterday

B: The feeling that overtakes me when I leave the office is quite ridiculous.
S: What kind of feeling it is?
B: Euphoria
S: Lol

Solo hikes

Best thing I could have done for myself last week. I'm going to explore this place while I'm still here. I'll do it on my own, since that's all I have right now. I might find a waterfall, or a bear, or a couple that needs their photo taken, or peace of mind.

I don't want to fall in my own trap again. Ever again.

My grandpa is here. He's funny. Already talking about how important it is that I stay close to family. And I just want to ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuun. Or go hiking. Solo.

Last night

Ken (to the group): Let me know if you wanna meet my therapist.
Me: Maybe I need therapy.
FDP: You don't need therapy.
HH: You don't need therapy! You're the happiest person I know.
Me: But I probably have issues.
FDP: YOU DON'T NEED THERAPY! ...Just thinking of hanging out with you makes me happy. You ARE therapy!

I want to remember those words. If I mantra the shit out of them, it might help me realign my soul. Going on a solo hike this afternoon.

Sleep deprived

I'm a bit emotional today. I blame it on not being able to sleep last night, and that is April's 27th bday, and that I had a dream with my niece and nephew.

I went to bed at 12:30am, woke up at 2:45am, rolled around and read, was able to go back to sleep until around 4:40am. Alarm went off at 6:10am. Just to wake me up from a dream of my sister and her kids, whom I haven't been allowed to see since October last year. They were hugging me in the dream, and my sister told me it was all finally OK.

Today would have been April's 27th birthday.

I am so done with emotions.

Things changed after I filed my complaint.

Breath of fresh air.

Fucking shattered dreams

It happens every time: I get back from a trip and crash in emotions of hopelessness. It's been getting worse every time I come back, this time... I don't know. I can't seem to get my shit together. I've been pretty strong and I haven't talked to any friends or family about these feelings, because I know they must be tired of the same thing coming from me. So I've kept it to myself. I don't know if that's what's making it worse or the fact that I really am not able to live like this anymore. Or maybe it's the fact that my deadline is getting closer and now I feel like I will not be able to do it, to break free and just go look for my life, to find a solution to this fucking problem I never asked for in the first place. I keep thinking I can do this, but then all the talks with people come to my head and bombard me with thoughts of "You can't do this one alone, someone will have to rescue you and it will be business and you will have to put up with that other fucking problem that, even when it'll be better than your current problem, won't bring you freedom."

I just want to stop thinking about all this shit. But I can't. I cannot get it out of my head. I have tried everything. I just want to cry now. I can't even work. My mind is unable to focus on the task at hand, like nothing matters. I'm afraid this has messed up everything. Will I ever be able to focus on anything?

Then I start that conversation in my head, that one that tells me to stop complaining because I'm so much better off than so many others. The one that tells me that I should just suck it up and deal with things as they are right now, that I should be content with life as I have it now. And I am, I'm not unhappy, but I just want better. Because I know I can DO better. I could be SO good at so many things, if I could just have the opportunity to do.

Then I get random song on my iPod that make me think someone's paying attention (Michael Jackson's "Keep The Faith" just started playing. I - am - not - shitting - you. Kind of like that one time that "No Woman, No Cry" started playing when I was crying at this same desk.)

Why can't I not live my dreams right now.. I keep thinking of how wonderful would it be to work at the LACMA, or work at a university, or work for Venice Arts, or write for the alt newspaper in Santa Barbara, or start a business in Ventura or Malibu, or work for GOOD Inc, or photograph for Rolling Stone or some band, or how great I could be at being the social media director for any organization I care about, or how awesome I would be at public relations, or what if I could just take a newspaper editor job in a small town somewhere (ok, maybe not that one).

Would I be happier if I didn't have these dreams.. maybe I just need to shut up.

A travelogue of sorts: California, April 2012

The escapades are getting more frequent, they're needed more frequent. Window seat stories and plane conversations: talk about travel and doing good. Getting to L.A. early afternoon is fine and dandy, we hit up Versailles for Cuban food and sangria. Out dancing. Meeting new people (!). Moreno Valley to visit tia Luz. Conversations with tia Chave. Unplanned trips to Oxnard. Sandy's fam and friends. Sunrise hikes. Cold sand and waves, Jimi Hendrix quotes by the ocean. Life lessons from a homie. Santa Barbara and Summerland (where the sand is warm). Toppers pizza and laughter... pasito tun tun! LFP meet ups and ideas. Cafecito Orgánico. Wednesdays of Jacks N Joe breakfast, pericos, Malibu waves, beer, new friends (and a bulldog). Billy's stories of tropical pinguins bought online (that never came). Thursday of LACMA afternoons. In Wonderland. Frida Kahlo, Remedios Varo, and other diosas. Las Dos Fridas made me stop and cry... "what seems an erotic wistfulness and a rather passionate display of a world of organic entanglement and femininity as one." Love at first YouTube and un enamorado. Bday celebratory breakfast @ The Griddle #DAYUM. Pauli and Canyon Country sunsets. Stella and Arjona. Terminanmos cantando siempre. Mochi Saturday. 1800 pomegranate and 1990's music. YouTube es una gran cosa. Vasquez Rocks climbing. Pizza. Dinner at Gregg's. Life is good. I remember the greatness. And I blame the moon for everything.

La ardillita

It's been extra warm (for this time of the year) and it's cause the grass to start growing like it's summer.

I haven't mowed.

I haven't mowed, because I never finished picking up the leaves last autumn. 

I didn't finish picking up the leaves last autumn, because that was around the time my tia Cande came to visit (after 10 years without seeing her), followed by the crazy fight with the unnamable, followed by my last trip to California, followed by being bummed out about being back in AR, followed by busy times. Everything else became more important that picking up leaves. Now I have to pick them up. 

Let's be honest, this much needed yard clean up is not even going to happen in the next couple of days. It's been raining like some kind of diluvio up in here. 

I *should* have happened over the weekend. But Saturday was an incredibly amazing day. The weather was perfect and I pretty much just ate and me acosté en la hamaca en la tarde. It was nice. Then it was carne asada time with the family. I also bought some fake flowers for a project I'm working on. I realized I needed to do yard work a couple of days ago, but the biggest sign came to me on Saturday. This is what happened: 

I pulled up in the driveway and saw a lil squirrel hanging out in the front yard. The little one would have normally hauled ass after seeing my car, but this time she (or he) just lowered to the ground.. just below the grass. Then she slowly turned around and jumped. High. Then lowered herself again and repeated her jump. It made me laugh! Maybe she thought I couldn't see her through the freaking jungle where she was jumping through. 

It's going to happen. The clean up. Just not tomorrow.

27th Bday

I'm a blessed woman. Specially because my mother wrote this to me today:

Thanking God for the 27 years that we have been together, you are a really "B"lessing to me:
I love ur fhotos
I love ur paints
I love u are University Graduate
I love ur poems
I love ur volunters
I love ur in the news
I love ur tacos de curry
I love cuando tenemos sesion de fotosI
I love u are University Alumnai
I love ur postcards
I love ur comments en tus fotos
I love traveling with u
I love ur friendship con Paulina
I love u like traveling
I love ur friendship con Marsha Foster
I love ur friendship con Chepe
I love ur friendship con el Chino
I love ur friendship con Alejandro
I love you care of family in El Salvador
I love you care of me
I love u are close to your family
I love ur humor sense
I love u like cats
I love ur banana bread
I love u care for your brothers & sisters.
I love ur friendship with your dad
I love you are in my life, you are the best daughter in the whole world and I wana wana wish u a happy birthday I wana wana wish u a happy day. I wana wana wish u a lots of presents, I wana wana wish u a good pasteeeeel.
I'm sure you will enjoy your "B" day
I wish u the best today and forever
Mochu love.

A flight and a road trip, 10 years ago.

The first time I got on an airplane was on 02/22/02 at about 7pm. I had one or two suitcases with me. I had my photo albums, my canon film camera I had managed to buy just a couple of months earlier, I had some of my favorite t-shirts and the only jeans I owned, a cassette tape that my cousin and I made for my sister, there was some fresh cheese in between my clothes in the bags, there were mangoes… I don’t remember who wanted mangoes, I had my Bible, and a broken heart. I left behind everything I knew of life and the little I owned. The box with postcards that my dad had sent us through the years when he travelled, the sea shell I kept in my room, my favorite books. I left my friends and my family.

I remember looking back while going through the security gate at the airport, and seeing my cousin Jaime Roberto. He looked as sad as I felt. He’s more of a brother to me than a cousin, and we both knew I was not just going for 8 days, like my plane ticket said. I had been telling everyone I would come back in a few months, when in reality I didn’t know what would happen. I had never been as lost as I was those last few months in El Salvador, after my mom and my sister left the country. I didn’t have plans for a life in El Salvador. But I also didn't have plans for a life anywhere else, either. On that last year of high school in my country, while everyone was trying to decide what to go to school for, I wasn’t… Now that I think about it, I felt exactly like that in my last year of college here. I looked at a school or two, but I didn't fill out any applications. I didn't look for a job. I was left out of the leadership positions I had at church for the new year (that hurt).

I got to the U.S. later that night in February. I had a window seat. It was the last row of seats of the plane. It was uncomfortable and the air conditioning was too cold. But then I saw the lights of Los Angeles for a few minutes before we landed. I had never seen so many lights. It was magical, the stars were on the ground.

My uncle picked me up at the airport. About a week later, we were both on our way to Arkansas. We drove. I didn't know how far Arkansas was. I didn't know what a road trip was. We stopped by Las Vegas, and somewhere in Arizona where my uncle saw it had snowed... it was just some leftover dirty ice, so I didn't give it much attention. We stopped by Albuquerque. All those places we drove by, so beautiful. This country is so big and open. If only everyone's heart were that big and open.

We got to Arkansas in the first minutes of March 1st. It's a good thing we drove (even though when we got out of the car, I felt like I never wanted to see a car again in my life). Had I flown in to Arkansas, I would have been so underwhelmed... specially after flying into LAX a week before.

These 10 years have been a blessing. I cannot begin to count the blessings I've received. I've met incredible individuals, many of them have become friends. I've been to beautiful places and learned so much!

Here's to whatever's next. I have no idea what that is... but it will be amazing. Doesn't matter how rocky the start is :)

Making lists [2012]

I make lists when I feel weird, out of place.

Lately, there have been too many of those days, too often. So here's what I have:

Want to see live:
- Matt Nathanson
- Mason Jennings
- John Mayer (again and again)
- The Naked And Famous
- G. Love (again and again)
- Fitz And The Tantrums
- Calle 13

I already know I'll get to see some of them live this year, the rest I'm on the look-out for. I really want to go to SXSW.

Want to visit:
- Death Valley NP
- Canyonlands NP
- Zion NP
- Yosemite NP
- Grand Canyon NP
- Monument Valley NP
- Big Sur, CA
- Redwood NP
- Portland, OR
- Denver, CO
- Salt Lake City, UT
- NYC
- Drive down the PFC from Oregon to L.A.
- Red Rock Canyon, LV, NV.

I to get to all those National Parks this year. I'll leave NYC and the MOMA for later.

What I want to accomplish in 2012:
- Establish LFP in NWA (each one, teach one)
- Get back in my size 8 jeans
- Travel
- Enjoy more live music
- Get at least one kick-ass self portrait
- Get back to yoga and hiking (it'd be good to do all AR trails before I leave)
- Leave AR

He dicho.

Edit.. I love checking things off

Out of place

I feel foreign to my own life at the moment. It's past midnight and I'm not sleepy, although very tired. Coming back from Darby's tonight I was trying to embrace the night drive (cold, but clear skies... lots of stars and the moon rising around midnight). But I couldn't. Not even the sweet music was making things better. I was driving too fast, so I slowed down and called Paulina. She thought the phone call was strange, "WTF?" she answered. We talked for a while and I told her I was feeling strange. Then I stayed in my car talking to her for a while until she had to go to bed. I should think of what I want to do in 2012... my 27th year of life. This freaking post even feels weird. Where am I going with all this?

Where am I going? 

Where am I?

Where?

I wrote a poem years ago

To The Love Of My Life

I lie each day to my heart when I say
I don't mind not knowing the exact color of your eyes at sunset
and the reason you don't shave on Sundays.
I want to wrap my arms around your life
and take your photo by the window.
No other story fits mine.
It's you and me.

So please tell me you will stay
and wait for me.
Tell me you long for my touch and hearing my laugh will make you whole.
Say you'll take me for a walk in the afternoon
and will seat next to me while I sketch the two old ladies
enjoying the sun's embrace.

We'll go together,
side by side,
and will be in photos of strangers capturing a story.
Our love story.
If you wait.

11-30-2006