hmmm

I saw a shooting star tonight ... I was in disbelief for a minute or two. When I convinced myself that it was really a shooting star, I thought, I need to make a wish.

I am not sure what it is about me at this moment that I couldn't think of what that wish should be.

I drew a blank... hard to collect what you want from the universe if you are not sure what you want.

Maybe it just means I am tired.

One of these days...

I am going to finish those drafted blog posts, but as of now I am scheduled within an inch of my life and finding it hard to keep up ...

Paraphrasing what a friend of mine's phone says to me:
Please enjoy this picture while I get a chance to write...



The jacaranda tree was my favorite sight all summer long... still a few days left of summer; squeezing all I can out of it.[My friend's phone actually says: please enjoy the music while I find ...]

Day 7

In a word... HELL.

There is a little less than 24 hours to go ... I have two strong drafts and one outline in need of serious work that must magically become a strong draft in a few hours.

Fairy godmother?

Day 4

All that talk about not stopping by here and then, here I am again ... alas, this means that I am not typing away at my comps question. I am, however, THINKING about it.

Why, yes, the many punctuation marks found in this post are a direct result of constructing many, long, convoluted sentences that might have a point, but it is so HARD to tell.

"No, I don't have any fucking IDEA what to write, as a matter of fact! Why would you ask me that?"

"We're not going to Oregon until you write something on that comps question!"

[If you have no idea what these two random quotes have to do with anything in the world, then take a look back at the post titled The Cabin.]

There are also a lot of asides in the drafts, as a matter of fact. Why would you ask me that?

Since this blog is just you [and by that, I guess, I mean ME] and me and the four hundred thousand people who want to know more about the song in H*A*P*P*Y F*E*ET [trying to make sure they don't accidentally end up on this page where I talk shit about them], I can, and do write whatever I want here.

This will be more random than usual...and may, or may not, include a random photo that has absolutely nothing to do with the post ... how could anything be representative of randomness anyway? I am not a math major, I could not possible know the answer to that question.

I am sitting here, pressing the back button on my shuffle to I get to just the right combination of Sade and Luther Vandross... they sing so sweetly directly into my ears and attempt to calm me ... it's nearly 3pm and I have exactly ONE page of draft two (that is draft of essay 2 not second draft of essay 1 ... I actually have a draft 2 of essay 1, that should count for something...though it is not even close to being finished...)

So, as I was saying, I am sitting here, listening to Sade and Luther sing some of my favorite songs, and I began to tear up [... god, why does writing essays make me want to cry?!], and I thought, "Do all old wounds hurt in just this way?" [I didn't actually think it in quotation marks, but I am in love with the punctuation just now, so I am including it.]

What way? It is an uncomfortable pain, yet comforting in some familiar way. It hurts deep, not like fresh physical pain that might just hurt for a minute. It hurts in that weird bruised way that you touch over and over just to feel it ... why do we do that?

These songs bring all that exquisite pain rushing back ... and I push the back button and listen again.

Yeah, pegame!

Photo ... pretty darned random, Squaw Valley, June 19, 2010

Day 3

Today is day 3 of the exams ... and I already feel that I am behind, though, to be fair, the deadline I set for myself to have the draft of the first paper was today at 6pm, that means I still have over three hours to make that happen. I am already on page 5 of the 8 I hoped to have done today ... I will probably get to more than ten and then start to cut. However, it feels like I am behind because in my dream, the one where I didn't procrastinate for several hours a day, I would be reworking the first draft right now not just finishing it.

Ah... technically still on track, though I would rather be doing ANYTHING than this. Ok, probably not anything. I have never had a root canal, and I am not that interested in trading that experience for this one. There is still something I can control here ... I just wish that what I was interested in controlling was getting done faster rather than taking longer!

The clouds threaten outside and I have moved from my couch to the sbucks, where I did enjoy the first few hours outside with the breeze tickling me. I want to take a nap, do yoga, go for a run, eat things that are bad for me. I want to read trashy novels, cook complicated dishes and talk to friends. I don't want to write these fucking papers.

The road ahead is full of days like this ... and hopefully some sense of accomplishment.

Old Town Photoshoot

After a few days at the cabin, we began to make our way to Oregon for a quick visit with two fantastic people, Barbara and Greg. But, first we stopped in the old town of Yreka. It was the perfect opportunity to get some pictures ... many of the little towns we went through looked just like this!

The real purpose for stopping in old town was to stop in at the bookstore so Julie could sign books and let her fans fawn over her
But they were closed...

So we wandered around a bit, stretched our legs and took some pictures...

Where you can get your caffeine fix:

I had some help on this photo shoot from some super models; here is Mary making Yreka look good...
And Julie pretending to ask for directions to get the Barber to pose for a picture unwittingly...
Gotta make some time to investigate the Masons, seems like everyone in the cemetery in Etna had something to do with them...
And, if you are so inclined, you can tie your horse...

The "Cabin"

So what happens when six women pile into three cars with gear and supplies for a week or more drive up into the mountains to the little homestead we affectionately call "the cabin?"

Yes, we refer to it in quotation marks. That is because it is not like a luxurious or even working cabin ... it is one large room that doubles as kitchen and living space, a side room with bathroom, and a large, screened in porch that doubles as living space and sleeping quarters.

Well, the owner of the cabin told us how her male friends' eyes would open wide at the prospect of six women frolicking at the cabin ... and we all laughed.

Actually what happens is there is a lot of cleaning up (reclaiming the space from the mice) the first day and a lot of cocktails. We had a lot of working on the cabin projects this time around .... to make sure it is still standing when we make our way back there. Some exploring of the cute little tiny towns nearby, and drinks at the bar. More cocktails. Exploring the old cemetery and reconstructing the town's history in our heads for fun. More cocktails.

There were also a lot of singing birds, no bears or mountain lions that we could see, and tons of woodpeckers. And an eagle. Once or twice a day, I noticed a hush in the forest... it went from cacophony of talking birds to silence. Then I noted the shadow of a huge bird flying over. When I looked up, there she was. Or he, I guess... I just imagined it was a momma bird out getting food for her kids. It was a daily occurrence.

Some key phrases for the trip:
We're not going to Oregon, if you don't ... [the original was eat your food (overheard at a diner on our way in), but it could be filled with your choice]
No, I don't have any heroin as a matter of fact, why would you ask me that? [a friend had witnessed a homeless man chatting with an imaginary friend the week before the trip, and this was his most memorable line; believe it or not, you can change out heroin for almost anything and it works. It must be delivered correctly, though, for proper effect.

My new camera rode all the way to the cabin but only came out as we were driving away. Here are some photos from the trip to the cabin...

We must have stopped for this one, it's too good
typical view
you can see this from the cabin, though I didn't take any pictures there...

The life given to us by nature is short, but the memory of a well-spent life is eternal.
-- Marcus Tullius Cicero

I ponder this as I plan the spa day that will be the treat for FINISHING the comprehensive exams that I will start on this Friday and end on next Friday.

I have a few posts I have been working on that will go live in the next few days and then there will be radio silence ... unless I hit a brick wall with the exams and need a break that includes writing more ... like that will happen.

Stay tuned for results ... there may be crying or laughing or celebrating, no one knows for sure.

I want to stay as close to the edge
as I can without going over.
Out on the edge you see all kinds of things
you can't see from the center.

Kurt Vonnegut

In Honor of Our Trip to Santa Fe Tomorrow

Some thoughts from the master ...

"Nobody sees a flower - really - it is so small - we haven't time - and to see takes time like to have a friend takes time. If I could paint the flower exactly as I see it no one would see what I see because I would paint it small like the flower is small. So I said to myself - I'll paint what I see - what the flower is to me but I'll paint it big and they will be surprised into taking time to look at it - I will make even busy New Yorkers take time to see what I see of flowers."
Georgia O'Keefe, 1931

I don't have any pics of flowers, so use your imagination with this one.

Best I can do

...is a quote today...

The turning point in the process
of growing up is when you
discover the core of strength
within you that survives all hurt.

Max Lerner

Location:Historic U.S. 66,Albuquerque,United States

Butterflies fly...

by day and go to bed early..,
[that's what is says below the picture of a geisha with a parasol...she is smiling]

From Christine Mason Miller's Ordinary Sparkling Moments

In your quietest moments...in those bare spaces where the sound of your breath is all your ears register ...

What does your heart say to you?

Location:Historic U.S. 66,Albuquerque,United States

seeing spirits

I am taking a class in curanderismo (actually tomorrow is the last day of ten intense nearly 5 hour sessions) -- that is traditional Mexican healing, and in the past few days there has been quite a bit of discussion about spirits, personal (tonal, according to my teachers) and those of our ancestors and guides. These are not strange subjects to me. I am fairly clear about at least three of my guides, though I suspect there is a fourth known guide.

Two of them are my grandmothers. I feel their presence not as often as I would like to, but I know that they are always there. The third is a friend from junior high who died when we were seniors. I am quite sure that Jaime has many souls to watch over, so I am grateful to be counted among them. The fourth is my cousin who died suddenly about nine year ago. Again, I imagine he is busy watching over his children and wife, but I know that he often looks in on me and I imagine he also looks in on my other cousins.

Seeing and feeling these spirits does not bother me, but when I opened fb the other day and saw Jaime's face staring at me, I was startled. You see, Jaime died nearly 24 years ago. I noticed that he was "friends" with several of my fb friends and others that I remember from junior high. How could this be? I have one other fb friend who has passed to the other side; but he and I were fb friends (and of course friends in real life) before he died. When I recovered, I realized that there must be a good explanation so I added my dead friend and dug around his page.

It turns out that his younger brother, who must have been at high school with me as well, had decided to put up the page as a tribute to his brother. It is a way to share and collect memories. And a way, over twenty years later, to make sure that Jaime's spirit lives on.

When I got the email that Jaime had accepted my friendship and sent me a message, I was filled with bittersweet feelings. Jaime was someone I had a crush on ... though nothing but friendship ever came of it. He was one of those rare junior high boys who took great care with people's feelings. I will always remember his cocky little smile that often broke into laughter ... not able even to convince himself that he was a tough guy. When he died, he was going through a very rough patch in his life and only 17. As a result of his death, more than any other person who has died so young, I have always wanted to own a protective bubble you could throw over certain teenage boys for a few years. You know from their soul that they will figure it all out, but they may not survive in order to do the figuring.

There are some other circumstances, too painful to write here, that cause me to feel especially close to Jaime and perhaps why he takes the time to check in on me. We share a connection I am glad has only been strengthened since his death. I visit with him whenever I am home ... though it has been over a year now since that beautiful face smiled at me from his headstone. Well, that has something to do with why I needed to be his fb friend, too, even though, obviously, he's not there. I wrote Jaime's brother and told him about visiting the grave. He wrote back thanking me for never forgetting him and for continuing to be his friend.

Jaime was one of the sweetest people I have ever known, so this is not an arduous task, it is a pleasure to hold him in my heart.

self portraits, sort of

all shots in old part of town, Yreka, CA

Surly

I promised myself I would compose a long letter to Amtrak after my 21 days of train travel. The gist is I want to know why everyone who works at stations must be surly.

Do they not realize what great benefits and pension plans they have as federal employees? Do they not understand that every year congress considers doing away with them because they lose money EVERY year? Do they not hear the privatization train coming down the track?

Amtrak people, get it together!!

Someone is training the phone staff to be polite, helpful and even solicitous. Perhaps it is because they do not have to contemplate what it would be like to lose their jobs, they already know that the automated bitch answers the phone and gets first dibs on all the customers.

I tried to be compassionate with them, especially when I noted that one woman working at the Oxnard station had a face full of bruises. Yes, everyone has bad days and all kinds of personal baggage they carry around, but, honestly the poor customer service was fairly consistent from station to station - I visited four, two of them several times.

Another aspect that added insult to injury was that at most (that would be three out of four) there was ONE competent, helpful, if not friendly, employee. And that was the one that was NOT waiting on me.

Did I mention that I LOVE trains and traveling by train. I mean LOVE it. Even in the US, even in California,where the trains are notoriously late and whose timetables are anything but convenient.

I am full of romantic notions about travel by train. I mean FULL. It is probably best not to go into the details of all the fantasies I harbor regarding train travel, let's just say they are vivid, memorable and juicy.

And the surliness did not dissuade me from these thoughts or future train travel, but I do worry for the survival of my beloved trains and I don't think the surliness is helpful.

Lighten up Amtrak workers!

Tenderness

"You know tenderness comes from pain" Sade

If I had to choose one word to describe how I felt on my trip to California, it would be tender. It is not necessary melancholy or hurt or even scared.

I feel like a piece of meat clobbered with the hammery tenderizing tool. Whereas theoretically it could make me more open and vulnerable, I fear it only makes me more vulnerable and wary.

My energy - that which I release into the universe - concerns me. It is all part of the new process: less fear for personal safety, more concern for my soul. It's more than worry about how I am perceived; it's about having my outside match my inside.

Another thing I realized after my trip (perhaps some while I was on it) is that more vulnerable and more open has helped me feel people again. This trip especially I felt like I was able to feel the emotions of some people who I experience as difficult and problematic. Instead of triggering a protectiveness, I truly felt their pain and was flooded with compassion for them. It changed the way I interacted with them and how I experienced myself.

In retrospect I can see that this is part of the opening - that I am responsible for prying openly heart in this way - and that I should feel glad and proud.

Perhaps this is exactly what I need to let go and let in at the same time. I need to let go of all the old agreements because they are no longer valid. I need to allow the new agreements to live as law and not as hope and conjecture.

They already figure prominently in my mind and heart - they just have not been given a privileged place on my consciousness.

(So I have beating myself up a bit for not having written this sooner. The word danced in my head for so long, but I couldn't face the computer with the scary thoughts. Today, reread my journal for 7/13-7/16 and realized I had already written what needed to be said. Blessed be!)

Cowboy Firemen

As I expressed in a recent post, I have a thing for cowboys. I also have a thing for firemen (and park rangers, you may be catching the theme here).

While traveling around northern California (and I mean really northern not north of Los Angeles - we were near the Oregon border), my friends and I started thinking how the only thing better than cowboys or firemen would be COWBOY FIREMEN.



Believe me when I say to you that I looked high and low. But these were the only ones I found.

From the train (Oxnard to Oakland, take 2) ... FAVORITES

Considering the almost 300 photos I took during this eight hour train ride, I think I was pretty restrained in the number of pictures I have posted here. Hope you enjoy the ride.Take two because it was the second time I was taking the Coast Starlight, though the first time going south to north. It was a very, very foggy day, not unlike the beach day I had the day before...

We're on our way...

I couldn't resist

I missed this sight on the first trip
State Street

We spent some time at the Santa Barbara train station.
A view from the other side.
I always wave at the train.
One of my absolute favorites
Who left these on these lonely beaches?

Here are a few things that caught my eye.


One of the best things about this train is that it goes through country to can't see from the main highway. There are back roads and even state beaches out there, but it is not the same scenery you are used to commuting back and forth on 101. It gives the feeling of being out there ...alone with the wide ocean and gorgeous dunes.
I love the dunes on our coast
The dunes and a little fake creek

I had a little obsession with roadsI especially loved this road that promised to lead to the ocean just to be blocked with ugly orange barriers...just try to keep us out.

At San Luis Obispo, the train takes a turn inland and the foggy coast turned in burnt earth and the promise of cowboys.

Cowboys? When I was a girl scout, we went to a camp in Los Osos that had real cowboys as the camp counselors. Imagine... a young girl's early fantasy building...
On my final Coast Starlight, I saw an actual rodeo at this place:

Tractor in the fields, hope this was the best of the set that I took:
What is the Central Valley without fields?

I guess this is my favorite of this barn; I tried up close and far out and with the mountains and with the fields...



I had a teeny, tiny obsession with these mountains...
I only posted two of the twenty or so I took.