That’s how today was.
First my sister, Sarah, took me out to lunch (slept in and missed breakfast—oops!) for my birthday the food was delicioso. I ordered a simple, plain dish to really put their sauce to the test and I can happily report that I added neither salt nor pepper. Sergio’s is definitely worth checking out.
Afterwards I drove home and babysat for one of my favorite families, who after three years have become like family to me. Jason, Skylar and I practiced yoga, played board games, and hung out outdoors–all in all a very sweet afternoon.
Then after that I headed to CDY to cover a shift for a fellow Karma Club member (Karma Club=people who work a shift at the studio, either the front desk or day care, per week in exchange for free yoga classes) and got to hang out with Jake and Samantha, two very awesome kids.
Finally after that I went to dinner with a friend of mine, Max, at Kawa Sushi. With my newly legal-CA DL I ordered myself a Mai Tai and was somewhat dismayed when it was actually a good, strong drink. I was counting on the stereotype that restaurants don’t serve strong cocktails…besides that the food (and company) were great.
Afterwards I came back to William’s (my boyfriend) house and did his dishes and folded his laundry for him while he worked on some new clothing designs. His birthday was this past Wednesday, so I was more than happy to do some cleaning for him as I know it really gets him down when the house is a wreck (not to mention the fact that his birthday present to me was spectacular and as I type this he’s handing me delicious left over pasta he reheated for me on the stove from Sergio’s…Mmmmm). Anyway, tomorrow we’re going to the beach so I made us sandwiches, chopped up fruit and got everything ready…
I promise to provide a little more substance tomorrow…not much here to chew on…accept maybe a conversation about great Italian restaurants? I’ve gotta say Sergio’s really impressed me…they had minced black olives in their olive oil to go with their freshly baked (and promptly served) foccacia bread. How about this: what’s your favorite restaurant and why?
I’m challenging myself. The challenge is for me to blog every day until it becomes habitual. I keep reading other peoples’ blogs and envying how often they post…I realized that I do have things that I could write about every single day and that I need to take the lid off of what I consider “postable.” So here’s today’s post:
I SIGNED UP FOR YOGA TEACHER TRAINING! WOOOO HOOOOO!! My training starts October 23rd and runs through February 26th. By the time I am done I’ll be able to teach yoga and I am SO excited!
In other news, today was a good day. I’ve been teaching one yoga class a week to two visually impaired kids, Ross and Katie. It really puts my verbal skills to the test! It’s really fun to have a forum for my creative problem solving skills…finding ways to communicate yoga poses to kids whose view of the human body is fuzzy at best (Ross and Katie can see some colors, but Diego who will be joining us starting next week is completely in the dark).
I then worked my shift at The Dog (also known as CDY and Cosmic Dog Yoga), which is always a blast. I got to hold the darling KD Rosenberg and practice some flying therapeutics and acro yoga with the talented Jamie McMaster. If any of you readers out there have been interested in trying out yoga, Jamie is teaching a partner yoga workshop on October 3rd. Partner yoga is very beginner friendly and because it is less structured than a regular yoga class and a lot more playful it’s not as intimidating as another class might be.
Well more tomorrow, I promise! In the meantime, I’m curious, to those of you who haven’t done much yoga, or any at all…why don’t you do more yoga? Or what stops you from wanting to give it a try? What do you think of yoga (ie in terms of stereotypes)?
I’ve been in New York three days, Brooklyn more specifically. It’s been fun getting to walk around…I keep getting reminded of the Monopoly board by all of the street names, so far I’ve seen Atlantic, Baltic, Park, and State.
So far there are a few things that have stood out to me about this city, versus other cities I’ve been to.
1) People are honk happy. You can actually get fined for honking in some places (photo of sign hopefully to come).
2) So far New York isn’t all that scary or dangerous seeming.
3) There are cicadas–EVERYWHERE…and one of the locals who I asked, acted confused, shrugged and said, “Crickets?”
4) Humidity sucks.
5) If you’re ever in Cobble Hill, check out Ted & Honey’s for an AWESOME sandwich and espresso.
I’m reading John, by Cynthia Lennon, John Lennon’s first wife and partner of six years, who he had dated for several years prior to marrying. Cynthia didn’t ever step into the limelight, and now so many years later she decided to set the record straight because without her voice to counter them, the media has always defaulted to a dull and unintelligent portrait of her, preferring to spend their typeface discussing the dramatic, high-profile relationship between John and Yoko. From learning more about John and Cynthia’s life in the years shortly before The Beatles became famous and during those first few years of celebrity, I wonder if all highly creative people need a strong anchor at their side to keep them present on this plane–whether they become famous or not.
In my own life, I’ve seen this to be true. My beau (and close friend over the last three years) is a self-proclaimed “crazy artist.” I’m learning to recognize when he’s in his “work mode” and I know that when he is, I’ll get little out of him. He is never cruel, but when his eyes dart away from the computer (or drawing table) momentarily to meet mine, I can see that the rest of his energy is still fixated on his art. I know that at these times, it’s best to stick to the basics, “When will you be done?” “Are you hungry?” etc. These moments echo the relationship of John and Cynthia. Cynthia was always independent of John and gave him his space when it was needed. I wonder—if Will were ever a famous artist, and I chose to stay out of the lime light—how would the media treat me? Would they assume I was dim-witted because I wished to maintain a certain level of anonymity. Through the Beatlemania years, because she stayed out of center stage, in most places Cynthia was never recognized when she wasn’t with John, had she been photographed more this certainly wouldn’t have been the case. She was a strong woman; she chose to raise Julian, their son, largely without the help of a nanny and stood by John during the year they were told by Brian Epstein, the band’s manager, to keep their marriage (and child) a secret.
The media doesn’t even give Cynthia credit for putting up with being alone so much of the time during the years when The Beatles were struggling to get a record deal, or during the first few years of fame—let alone acknowledging the deep connection between she and John. Cynthia was John’s tether to this world—to her he was always just John. Artists feel things at a deeper level than many other people. With their ability to perceive in unique and poignant ways, there comes a price: emotional intensity and sometimes creating a volatile individual. I wonder if these souls always come in two’s—creative genius consisting of two necessary components: the space cadet and her anchor.
The other thing this book has me thinking about is the concept of celebrity. Why is it that we, in a society free of monarchy and a dominating aristocracy based on bloodlines, build up the champions in selected fields (primarily, the arts) to be demigods? When I’ve seen those pictures in magazines of CELEBRITIES WITHOUT MAKEUP!, they remind me that those celebrities aren’t that different from you or me. Many of whom are not, in truth, more attractive than the local beauty queens; the only difference is their fame and entourage of makeup and hair people. I wonder how others react to these images? Do they believe it’s bad for Jennifer Lopez to go a day without wearing makeup? What are we supposed to feel when we look at these images?
I’m not above celebrity voyeurism. From time to time, I check in with the celebrities who pique my interest, but I always feel as though I’ve debased myself when I watch the 10-second clips of celebrities like Christina Aguilera, fighting through a throng of photographers as she tries to make her way from the club’s door to her waiting vehicle. If I ever met her in person, I’d feel ashamed that I’d watched that anything like that and in doing so feeding into what has stripped her of her personal freedom. The seemingly all-male photographers say stock phrases like, “Looking beautiful Christina,” in an attempt to get a good shot. There’s something perverted about our cultural obsession with celebrity. What is it in our psychology that fuels us to, when organized in societies, create these larger-than-life-seeming figures? In my biography-reading experience (which is not profuse I’ll admit), illuminating the back story of these figures slowly let’s the air out of the inflated, public persona, revealing a three-dimensional human being, no different than the people I’ve known in my own life.
As a society, we need to reexamine the way we treat the other members of our species whose talent we admire. The fragile human ego malfunctions when faced with such obsessive adulation (why do so many of our beloved famous artists wind up dieing so young?). Instead of ballooning out the one aspect of the celebrity we love (ie their singing voice, their acting ability, their writing, their painting) and forgetting about the rest. We should keep their humanity in mind. They are people just like us, who use the bathroom, who don’t always want to wear makeup or comb their hair, and who never thought they’d live anything but a normal life.
John always said in interviews that he didn’t miss Liverpool. The truth was that it deeply saddened him that he couldn’t return to his hometown and simply visit friends, stop by his favorite pub, and walk the streets as he once did. Are we really so out of touch culturally that we can’t let a person be?
Below is a great video of Liz Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, giving a talk on creative genius….very interesting.
I’ve been reading lately–first I read John, by Cynthia Lennen, then the Education of Little Tree by Forrest Carter, and now I’m reading Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse.
I’d forgotten how fabulously stimulating reading is…not only is it relaxing and engaging in a healthy way but it also inspires me to do writing of my own! When I read about characters who are connected to the world around them it deepens my connection to others.
So in terms of my trip right now, the next thing I need to do is a) create some kind of rough itinerary and b) budget it out so I can figure out a target amount to save.
Do you have any tips (either in your own words, or a helpful web page or book to recommend) for either of those things? In particular, what should I account for when making a budget for overseas countries…aside from the obvious like the exchange rate.
Also, I seem to have difficulty tightening my purse strings…one of my biggest expenses is food because I love to eat delicious meals and I often don’t have time to prepare them for myself. Even if I did have the time, buying ingredients from the store is still fairly expensive.
What are your favorite cost and time effective meals?
I began this semester with a full plate in each hand and a jug of water balancing on my head, or at least that’s how it felt. Much of what took up my time was my on-campus involvement. Other activities that I enjoy such as yoga, leisurely reading, hiking, and spending time with friends and family were paired down to a bare minimum.
I looked around at the students of whose league I was now a part. They all put in eight hour days on campus and never seemed fully relaxed. Early on in the semester I realized I’d taken on too much and decided to drop two of my classes. As time went on it became clear to me that I was still overbooked.
A sense of dis-ease started to settle over me. As I looked at these all-star students I was surrounded by, I asked myself: is that what I aspire to? Where does this path I’m on lead to? Is that the life I want? Or am I just on this path because it’s the culturally expected route for me to take?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the connection between my current life choices and the future I envision for myself is at best tenuous. As a creative writing major living in San Francisco, I would spend all of my time reading, writing and working to make rent and for what exactly? So I can graduate and get some entry level job as a copy editor? So I can work for free as an intern? So I can hang my degree on a wall?
I realized that getting a BA in creative writing in no way directly translates to the type of life I want…so what the f*** am I doing??
Well what kind of life do you want then?
I want adventure. I want to make a difference. I want to get my hands dirty…and I don’t see what’s stopping me from going out in the world and seeking that out now. A very dear friend of mine has built his career from scratch without going to college. He “did his time” by accepting low wage jobs to build a portfolio and lived on nothing for years (much like what one endures while in college) but he’s made it—he’s now in league with the people in his industry he’s looked up to since he was a teen…now I know that not how everyone’s life plays out. For me, the bottom line is, if I’m going to get a college degree, I want to know how I intend to use it.
Well then what are you going to do?
During the last few months I have considered many different possibilities, but they all have one thing in common and that is TRAVEL. As much as I’ve tried to balance out my desire to travel by saying it’s only ego-based, I’ve come to realize that it’s grounded in something deeper.
Now given that my world traveling experience equals zero, I’m consulting several experienced travelers before I make any big moves…but right now here is what I know:
I’ll be gone for at least six months.
I’m planning on visiting Thailand, Egypt, and the United Kingdom.
I’m going to buy an around-the-world ticket.
During my trip I will volunteer.
I do not want the typical “tourist” experience, I want to really get a feel for the true culture of each place I visit, by seeing the way its people live—not just seeing the destinations listed on the country’s tourism web page.
***
I’ve had a wonderful experience in my first three years of college. I’ve met professors who I know will be in my life for years to come. College is a rewarding experience, if you have a specific career in mind, or if your desire to learn is intrinsic. But right now what I’m seeking is learning through life experience, so that my future career and academic decisions will be based on more than the cumulative experiences of a 20-year-old white girl who’s lived in the same town her whole life.
Three years ago when I graduated from high school, I attended a month-long creative arts program at CalArts in Valencia as a writer. One of the visiting authors, Maria Dhavana Headley said something to me that has echoed in my mind time and time again over the last three years. She was signing my book, and I asked her, “Aside from the typical advice—read a lot, write a lot—what would you suggest a young aspiring author do?” Her one word answer, spoken as she placed her book back in my hands and looked me piercingly in the eyes? “Live.”
I’ve decided to re-title my blog. The new title reflects my prayer that my writing will serve as a soul-awakener. Expect some big changes to be broadcast here in the near future. I’ve learned from Butterfly medicine that one shouldn’t reveal one’s plans until they’re well enough formed to withstand the winds they’ll undoubtedly face, so I won’t expose what I’m thinking just yet, but there are some strong winds blowing in my life right now, change has already come.
I saw a T-shirt the other day with a picture of a butterfly on it that said, “If these fragile little creatures can fly a thousand miles, think what you can do,” that is precisely what I’m doing: imagining all the wonderful things I can do with this life in front of me.
I’m questioning whether or not I want to follow the Game of Life path that’s been set out before me by the culture I’ve been brought up in. Do I want to go to college, get a career, get married, buy a house, have a family and eventually retire—all in that order with no diversions? I know that I’ve always wanted my life to have a sense of adventure and the question I’ve been asking myself lately is, when am I planning on starting that adventure? When is there a “right time” to jump off the deep end of society into the wild unknown?
One of my favorite quotes is from the film Into the Wild. I’ll conclude this post with a clip of it. I don’t know if its gravity carries, out of the context of the film, but I figured I’d post it anyway. The part that means the most to me is the last bit.
The truth is: we all have it in us—the urge to quest. The quest-ion is what direction does one begin in and when?
Happy Wanderings,
Illustrator rendering of my signature courtesy of the amazing William J. Hines
My experience with directing ended in an amazing final performance. The audience was putty, my cast was gelled and the energy between the two was tangible. Skipping CD, botched Sanskrit, and lighting cue errors seemed only to endear the experience more. To me it was perfect; I could not have been happier. The whole experience, all the stress, it was all worth it to have friends and family gathered together to support my art and to experience a new medium of self-expression.
One of the reasons the audience-cast energy was so electric was because so many of us new each other. The audience was directly connected to the people onstage who were performing. This element is lost when performers become famous. Instead of the feeling of, Awww that’s my son/daughter/boyfriend/girlfriend/fellow yogi, look at them shine! we develop relationships with performers who we’ll never get to know and likely never meet. In these cases, the audience member feels unworthy and that the performer is better than him or her. The fact that I’ll never get to know Jason Mraz personally makes me sad, same goes for many other artists I respect. I’ll never get a chance to relate one-to-one with my favorite artists—what a flippin’ bummer. That’s why it burns a little when a musician you’ve loved for a long time suddenly becomes famous; before they belonged to you in a more intimate way, and now they’re everyone’s. Now that Jason Mraz is famous, I won’t get to see him at smaller venues like The Fillmore, where I got a chance to make eye contact with him while waiting in line for merch. His shows will now take place at packed arenas and I’ll be just a face in a sea. But what’s important to remember is that Jason Mraz is just Jason to his parents, siblings, friends, ex-wife and to the people in his immediate community. My experience with theater has shown me that there are extremely talented members of our community—no, some of them may not be as good looking as Brad Pitt, but the fact that you can talk to them after the show makes up the difference.
The audience who watched the plays that night could not have been any more ecstatic if they were watching a Broadway performance of a Tony-award winning comedy. Before there was TV, before our communities were scattered like dice from a cup, families divided across states and continents, we all knew each other. Entertainers were chosen out of each community and anyone who wished to perform could do so, and their talents, those of the storytellers, dancers, singers, actors, and writers were appreciated by their communities for their ability to bring joy and light to the depth of a winter storm or the pain of a hungry night.
I wish we could go back to similar times, when our favorite artists and entertainers were also our neighbors. Theater has taught me a new dimension of community and self-expression, and I am very grateful for the experience.
Thank you to Ken Ross, for giving me the chance to direct my own play, to my cast, who made my little soapbox car look good, to everyone who came out to the show, and to everyone who couldn’t make it but remembered to ask how it went, thank you for supporting my soul-art. Know that I in turn support your art, even that which you create in secret. I support your right to create, to express yourself in whatever way makes your heart sing.
Below is a video of a 20-minute talk given by Liz Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love on the subject of genius and creativity. I hope it inspires you.
Istas, of Wolf Mountain Sanctuary in Lucerne Valley, CA
How many season’s have I slept through?
How many dark winter’s nights turned to
Spring’s blossoms before my eyes with me
blind to the earth’s rebirth?
How many years have I spent exposing my underbelly to all
Instead of using teeth and claw to defend my own fragility?
How many years have I let myself believe that I needed others
To resurrect me from an ashen pile? When what I needed was
To ruthlessly cut them out because in reality they were cutting me down.
When what I needed was to say:
“I am strong, strong of my own bones and blood. You, you try to convince me that I am weak—that I may fall apart were you not here to hold me together. Ah! But I know the truth now, I know that what you offer is a trade—give up my soul-self and in return I receive medicine from you that doesn’t serve to repair the severance but only to anesthetize my mind so I don’t feel the loss at all. But no more. No more shall I be held in your grip. I’ve broken free and won’t be caught again.”
Do you feel the pads of these four feet pounding the earth? Do you hear the singular howl? You will know me before you see me. I’ll be she who runs with the wolves, she who hears the hummingbird, she who knows the language of the wild and the love of mother earth. You won’t have to search for long. If you are ready, she’ll wander toward you out of the mist.
