It’s the hour of dinner and listening to A Man & A Woman soundtrack like I do every night and I thought of you. Your likes and loves and comments, that come to me when I post, does what WordPress strived for: a message, I’m here. Now, the amusing rainbow to this; you are following someone who doesn’t and never has known where she is going. Truly, I dive into dry pools, imagining there is water. My soul sees honesty where there is betrayal, my heart feels love when there is jealously, my body dances when no one else is dancing. Thanks to you all for being on my screen when I am screaming. I love you! The photo is from a New Years in Santa Fe, NM, can’t remember which one! But I had a lot of fun.
Unprepared, who knows where
The leaves will fall
They don’t plan
Where to land
Undisclosed strangers will walk in our paths
Cross our hearts and
Tread our minds with terror
Evil intercepted; betrayal, envy, abandonment, financial sabotage. It’s for a reason, Evil has not penetrated my life. Why now?
We traverse our hearts discourse
Shooting for dreams of undiscovered lands
More weightless plans
I don’t know if I can see ahead
My steps like pebbles follow the rush in the river
On the edge of blindness
Skipping towards freedom
In summer rays of light.
Like a leaf, I break free from the branch of life to find where I belong.
Im breaking my silence again. This time it is because of the suffering I’ve endured for two and a half years, that’s why you don’t see many posts. The actions enforced by my longest and best friend on my financial, emotional, intellectual, creative, and physical being are devastating and inhumane. It is the Dragon again, she returned after five years. Thank you for all who rock my cradle. When you don’t have family, friends keep me pushing the cart. So do films, flowers, and trees.
My Cradle of Friends rock my fear,confusion, attitude, confidence, and spirit. Thank you for sharing the storm. I will bring my light back because of you.
ADVENTURES IN LIVINGNESS FALL ON… moving without a new address. This is the pinnacle of the If Girl, an identify that suits me. I’ve met dozens of men and women who are transitioning from one local to another, one partner to another, one pet to another, the if is the true arch of our character. If we reach to high we may end up with a knock on the head, if we reach to low we disappoint ourselves. If you are not moving internally, well, I guess you are happy where you are. I’ve never known that. Maybe its the writer in me, without conflict what to write about?
Direction is a choice; move back home, move near your children, move for a job, but in my case I move because my act in Santa Fe has closed. I’m like a space between two paragraphs; a blank slate sounds romantic, no commitments or tangible responsibilities my home is rented and so like a nomad, I’m searching for a new beginning. Some say its an adventure, some say the answer will come in time, as I lay my head down on a hotel pillow, the interim is asking me to be peaceful, as my belongings are reduced to a partial wardrobe, my cat, three books, and my coffee maker.
Its like when I went off to college, a liberating extension of those early days when belonging to things didn’t matter, life mattered. If you are single and without children this is the knife that we must slice into a piece we accept, or no peace at all.
I don’t know at what age reasoning and understanding took over daydreaming, was it in my thirties? No, fifties. No sixties, no; this week. The time of change without my someone to guide me, map out the course, and hold my hand when I take the wrong turn is here.
In a few weeks, I’m leaving Santa Fe, heading west, to Los Angeles, my home that hasn’t been home for twenty five years. This leap of change came about after I decided to leave Santa Fe, where to go was easy, back home for a refresher course in metropolitan living. Some time soon I’ll write about Santa Fe, the land of entrapment. I looked it up on google, its not a tin-pan myth, the force of gravity here is like a wave you can’t swim at your own pace. Nature in New Mexico is the ruler, mankind just passes through. To describe it should be left a mystery. If you feel the draw to Santa Fe, do it, there is a reason.
I wonder if I left a mark. If someone years from now will remember Gallery LouLou, or the Wild West Vacation Home, or just where Rudy and Loulou live. It doesn’t matter does it? I remember.
Packing is also unpacking; everything I did, bought, wrote, or wore is in the house, so as I pack up what to take, I leave behind the collapsed friendships, fortunes of moments inked in my head, like letters that play the past. Four years ago I was ready to leave, maybe longer, a force much more powerful than I, said, no, not yet. Just as the dice lined up, the tables turned against me. I thought I’d lose everything. A year and a half later I’m a few days away from the road trip to Westwood, where I was raised.
When I arrived in Santa Fe in 2007, I felt powerful, focused and determined. Now as I close the door, I feel humbled, like a wild animal whose been fed just enough to keep going. That has not been one of my strongest points as I am constantly pulling out new canvases to caress, and forget to say, thank you for the meal.
The door to relocation propelled me to trade in my car for a convertible coup, sell or give away and now I’m taping up the boxes of Santa Fe memories to take with me to the next adventure in livingness. To be continued.