Monday, September 27, 2010

Just Show Up

When I was little, in fact, when you were probably little too- we had dreams. We aspired to be a lawyer, or a doctor; a musician or a fireman. We unconsciously soul-searched our left side brain and created adventures only our innocent brains could think about. When presented with a map, we didn't think about time or the gym or even how much gas would cost to find the end treasure. We didn't require our parents to be witty or wise to entertain us; we entertained ourselves.

For me, lately, I miss that feeling. I miss the intense highs and complete exhaustion. Writing and photography are my outlets since I've become an 'adult.' If I told a child that I enjoyed running, spin class and boxing, but I did it for a purpose of being fit rather than just for pure pleasure, they wouldn't comprehend. Why wouldn't I write and do photography instead? Criticisms, I guess. Do I actually think, though, that the literacy critics will really come pounding on my door because, in my blog, I didn't match the possessive noun with the right verb? Doubt it. Will people yell “Rookie” to me while I'm walking down the street? Shit, I'd be so happy if they did.

So, why else? Is it because I'm getting old? I think the older we get, we persuade ourselves that the instinctual need for creativity is no longer needed. I know my mother is an enormous talent (painting, designing and wreath building) but she hasn't done those things for years. Have I outgrown writing?

Maybe...we lose faith (or I lose faith) because we see so many artists struggle and figure there is some other 9 to 5 job to pay our rent, travel bill, etc. But, when we take that other job and stop creating, what then? First, I know that I will never outgrow words on a blank page. No matter how grammatically incorrect or un-comprehendible my stories may read, writing to me is like a sweet nectar juice to a hummingbird. It's like a brie cheese stuffed with caramel and nuts or butter with bread to a food lover; it's like a new set of oil pastels or Ingres paper to a painter.

Second, I know that I will never stop looking at the world through a lens just because everyone else is doing it. I have never liked to be the one that followed the herd, but in this case, I'll moo for as long as my lungs will take it.

I can't wake up creative everyday so for me, I need to have my stable job and remember on my down-time how much writing and photography means to me. Pregnant women really don't want to have a big belly, but they do because in the end, the joys and thrills of being a mom, outlasts anything. Sometimes writers blame time, musicians blame the audience, etc. In the end (whatever that may be to you) though, it's worth it. There will be intermittent times of business, blockage and laziness. But, like Elizabeth Gilbert said, “All you can do is show up.” I did stop showing up. I figured that if I showed up and nothing came to me to write about, or I couldn't find a tiger and a crocodile kissing with my camera, I might as well drink a martini and call it a day.

Being impatient doesn't work; not fulfilling your soul doesn't work either. It may, for awhile, but then you just end up pushing through and that's not enough.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Time Separated



Time. It is meant to change. It is meant to begin. It is meant to plan.

In youth, we ask for more (we ask for time to stand still) - to dance in the moonlight, take motorcycle rides and create musical notes that will secure us through our future.

Time.
In life, all we can do is hope and love. As we get older, we begin to teach our parents again about hope. Yes, they look at us like we are crazy, but all we have to do is remind them of the first kiss from grandpa.

Time.

Create a way to travel back in time. Enrollment. That’s what it takes to remember and embrace the past. Yes, it’s good to move on. But yes, screw that, it’s good to remember.

I remember dancing at a competition and looking at my parent’s gazing eyes. They thought I was purr-fect. Boy, they didn’t have a clue.

I remember basking in the musical notes during class (probably because music activates neuro-pathways and facilitates learning in other areas – just saying). I also remember Spanish class and the flush of excitement when I could speak fluently to my teacher.

I remember watching the sunset with a certain someone and realizing life can’t slow down enough.

I remember sitting still and just listening. Sometimes to tears; other times to the sound of leaves moving from the wind and then sometimes, to just this - my fingers on the keyboard. It’s different than a journal, but similar nonetheless.

Time.

I thought I could do anything. I remember then time. I fell in love, got my heart broken, pursued my dreams, developed and then fell in love again.

Guess what? Timing…it’s everything. At 30, I can truly say that life is full of surprises, full of wonderment, full of certainty. Sometimes when we want some great explorer to jump right in front and show us the world; what we get is someone who shows us the world is surrounding our every being. We can still dance outside in the moonlight, we can still hold onto hope and faith; most importantly, we can still remember the past, shed a tear and move on.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

The Right Thing


When you realize what you thought you knew, but didn’t, life before then seems so far away. A turn of events, a time to forgive, a change. We feed ourselves to starve the pain because we can’t face the facts. We are all afraid of something. But, when we stop and mostly because something happens, some event, we realize that we have to face the facts, we have to stop being afraid, and we have to make a change.

The last few days, a turn of events has happened to me. A friend came to me with a mission to help raise awareness for a man running from San Diego to Phoenix for cancer and a road trip ended with an explosion that made me realize what is meant to be.

I was forced to face the facts because of the explosion; just like people are forced to face the facts when they learn that a loved one has cancer. I was afraid of making a commitment; just like people are afraid to live each day as if it was their last. I was feeding myself with what I thought was filling the heart instead of leading my heart.

Life, as a friend put it to me recently, is ending as we know it. He described visiting his family and friends in his home country and how people were gone and other people were evolved. He was explaining revolving…he was saying that life is a constant change.

Now, I realize this. I realize that life is too short to not communicate to the people that you love. I realize life is too short to play games. I realize that life is about respect, its about hard work, its about doing the right thing. Time for me to do the right thing….

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Sight...

It’s something most of us our born with and don’t think about much from day-to-day. As a photographer, it’s one of the five senses that I can’t imagine living without. There have even been days where all I do is drive and soak in as many visions as I can possibly handle until I’ve created a golden screen picture in my mind.


Merriam Webster defines sight as “something that is seen” or “a thing regarded as worth seeing” and finally, “the process, power, or function of seeing; specifically: the physical sense by which light stimuli received by the eye are interpreted by the brain and constructed into a representation of the position, shape, brightness, and usually color of objects in space.”


I guess I never thought of sight as a thing regarded as worth seeing. I’ve had looks from loved ones with cold Medusa eyes, and seen homeless men struggling to stay alive. Those experiences were sights, vulnerable sights, but nonetheless sights of this grand thing called life. I’ve seen the moon smile down on me and I’ve seen 90-year-old couples hold hands down the boardwalk. I’ve seen a lens full of wilderness and sunrises over the ocean where light and shadow coalesce as one. Vision presses to my heart. Shape, situation, shine. All things combined, the grand design is within us. What we see, we choose to see. What we don’t, we haven’t worked hard enough to make it visible.


What I’ve learned is that both vulnerable sights and “great” sights are worth seeing. Each teaches us where we are and where we must go. A new vision (whether positive or harmful) can lead us to a different direction, a different ponder session and a more honest, hard look at ourselves. That said, remember the “sights” you see. Remember the light is received by your eye which is interpreted by your brain and constructed into a position, shape, brightness and color. The “sights” you see are what makes you – you. Remember, not to take them for granted.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Reflections of 2008 -- It's About Time



2008 became a year of stability and change. I made some major moves to brighten my horizons and delude the craziness. I moved closer to the ocean so the positive ions would influence my creative side and since moving, I’ve picked up a paint brush, strummed on my guitar, and mastered hand stands in the sand.




Other things that blessed my year:

S: Started the New Year off with friends and laughter in Costa Rica. Getting over a major loss, I rode the warm waves, zip lined through the jungle and breathed in the misty jungle air.
T: Tanned a bit less and toughened up a bit more.
A: A trip to Arizona brought family history, healed wounds, and awe of the Sedona mountains with my favorite person in the world.
B: Board games filled my soul and brought me back to childhood.
I: Iowa allowed hours with my father listening and laughing, a few days with my brother and sister looking at architecture, making food and watching movies, and time with my old college friends watching two people dedicate the rest of their lives to one another.
L: Listening to the waves brought me back to open my ears…and heart.
I: Intimacy with new friends and the bf allowed me to recognize love, openness, and shame.
T: Travel up and down the Californian coast reminded me of God’s nature; how the sun rises and sets in perfect intervals. Magic mountain, universal studios and race tracks allowed me to scream at the top of my lungs.
Y: Yoga gave me the ability to listen to my breath and move my body naturally.

AND…

C: A new career change to an online company near the ocean.
H: Health. Ran a marathon and listened to my body instead of just looking at it.
A: Positive attitude made laughter continuous.
N: Natural miracles of friends’ babies made me realize even more the power of God.
G: Gratitude of where I lived filled my heart each day. A new home and beach city brought me closer to positive ions in the air.
E: Eternal memories from my grandmother who could no longer remember actions and events, but she remembered love. A reality and lesson to those of us who try to succeed without love, true love.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Allowing Life and Death to Collide

In the past month, a truly amazing journey and somewhat of a treasure trove of history has happened to me. Through a death of my dad’s mom and a 60th anniversary celebration of my mom’s parents, I’ve heard countless hours of family history and whole heartedly fell in love with stories of love.

Although I asked probing questions when I was younger about my grandparents and how life was growing up in their era, I still don’t really feel like I know them as well as I wish. If I could have any superpower, it wouldn’t be flying. Instead, I’d move like seabreeze and float back in time so I could be a fly on the wall and really get to know my relatives. I'd also take notes on how to really love because I believe my grandparents had it figured out.

Reading through my grandpa’s letters to my grandma during her funeral weekend, I realized how much he loved her. I know that the day she died was the second happiest day of my grandfather’s life (the first being the day he married her).

Pondering on that weekend, I realize how fortunate I am to have also experienced my other grandparents 60th anniversary. A few weeks earlier, I saw the love of 60 years in their eyes where dancing, laughter, and life was another memory that will never be extinguished. That memory will be chronicled, carried on and remembered.

Stories of love, sadness, loss, happiness, humanity, insanity and truth have filled my presence in these last 30 days. And although exhausting, the emotions I am feeling are innately human. They forge bands of voices and connections.

However great or small we choose to live, I’ve learned that we must live it with decency, honesty, and love. We must remain true to our heritage and to the spirit of its telling.

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Perfect Star

When I was little, I tried to draw the perfect star. Every time I had a moment of freedom, I would whip out my pen and draw those five lines so each open space would be equal. It wasn’t until today, almost 30-years-old, did I realize that it doesn’t matter.

As I sat there at my desk with one piece of paper, my phone on speaker, and a pen, I doodled. At the time, I didn’t realize I was doodling because of course I should have been paying attention. But when I finished with my conference call, I looked down and saw the absolute perfect star I’ve ever drawn. Guess what? It wasn’t perfect. It was so far away from perfect, it made me break into hysterical laughter and my office mate thought I was crazy. To me, I realized that my obsession to make things ‘perfect’ had nothing to do with that star, but more to do with making it accommodate to my being and atmosphere. The un-connecting lines and slanted curves finally made it perfect in my eyes.I took the time to realize...IT IS NOT ABOUT ME.

It begs the question though…do we expect that life will end up as perfectly as we predict? Do we wish a white wedding with 500 guests and 10+ bridesmaids? Did we think that we’d become a millionaire by the time we were 30? Have we succeeded in what we thought we would achieve at this age?

Probably not. The only reason why I say that is because our generation is so beyond these thoughts... yet, should we be worried? It is imperative to have goals. It is important to protect what you’ve worked so hard to build and achieve. But…if those visions fill up your 'gallery' and don’t work out, you can still color outside the lines and it will still work out. God works in ways that we humans can’t quite understand. The very best quality output may only bring you minimum return.

All and all, here's my advice to you. Realize and live your passion, not your warped dream into reality. Don’t expect that things will be granted to you. Expect that things will be the way you look at them. Broken star or perfect, it is all your perspective and you have the power to precede.