I left my shoes on your patio. I gathered my belongings - handbag, lipgloss and heart - and left you for the evening. The day has painted itself into the vibrancy of my mind; the fertility of my imagination has begun to twist and morph your words into mutter. I feel they have become the tourniquet of my heart as their imprint brands me, and leaves me with a day to organize their meaning. I asked you about forever, and you responded with that wordless grin that so infamously distinguishes your character. You remind me of my immaturity. My imperfections. My earnest and overwhelming devotion. I feel that I look at you with the hopeful eyes of a child - eager. Expectant. You know me well, and manipulate my heart effortlessly. Your voice hangs like velvet, caressing my ears and pumping lullabies into my soul. I believe you. I listen to you. I love you. I close my eyes, and I breathe you. Questions burn deep; they scratch at the surface of my sanity and beg for release. Her presence has pickled my mind. I clothe the subject of my insecurity in trivial conversation. Conversation that pertains to anything and nothing at all. The anvil of deceit drowns me; it strips away faith and security and leaves me naked with my imagination. I fumble words, and trip over mistaken phrases. I scramble for the poetry that has become my adoration for you. But for once, language fails me.
I left my shoes on your patio - I just needed a moment to breathe. I would have lingered on your doorstep, but this evening is inviting my current state of confusion. In solitude, I meticulously arrange the thoughts that always seem to scatter in your presence. In solitude, I allow the notion of forever to tiptoe between those thoughts and pirouette its beauty from my lips. Whispered lullabies surround me and tame the wildfires of mistrust; I believe you. I listen to you. I love you. I close my eyes, and I breathe you. In the blankness of this night I feel you. Regardless of her presence - her name tattooed in my brain - the affection for you is apparent. It screams at you from the redness of my cheeks, from the brilliance of my smile, and from the softness of my kiss. My love is so obvious, and shameless. So now I ask you about forever, and at last you concede.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
'cause im free as a bird now
Today I am feeling indifferent. I started thinking about where the hell I am headed with my life - a thought that consumes an entire day and leaves me feeling even more angst and stubborn than I had originally planned. I would rather be knee deep in the waves on the California shores, or rocking out by myself to some obnoxiously loud ACDC or GnR. I would rather be screaming obscenities at the top of a roller coaster - I would rather be doing cartwheels in the sand.
Anywhere but here. So I do what I do best in these situations, I spill my jumbled nonsense into print. I have compiled a list of random things that make me happy (and some that really piss me off). I do this in an attempt assuage my apathy. If you are of the bored and unemployed - the people that really have nothing better to do than listen to the bullshit of an angry woman - please read on and find comfort in the realization that you're not the only disorganized individual residing in Phoenix Arizona - or wherever you live. Enjoy.
1. My father nicknamed my Ruby Begonia at the age of 3. I am sure he meant Scarlett Begonia, in which case makes me somewhat cool.
2. I ran into a wall at the age of 13 and broke my pinky toe. Even more hilarious, I had a cast up to my shin that I busted because I refused to stop dancing simply because some doctor ordered otherwise.
3. I am a dreamer; I have a lot of ambition and plan on slowly taking over the world. (Metaphorically speaking) I will have two Pulitzers at some point in this life and an outlandish collection of my bullshit in print - i.e ridiculous novels.
4. Writing is a huge part of my life. I have absolutely no organizational skills to apply to this talent, a defect that I am sure is holding me from my success. But I am stubborn and I continue to hack away at my dream.
5. I have problems with ignorance in people - I have been quoted saying that, "ignorance simply means that you're not smart enough to be stupid." I stand by that.
6. I fall in love with everything - everything is my favorite.
7. I come from a huge family but hardly stay in contact. This really depresses me.
8. I am ruled by my emotions; I am a very passionate person. I love and hate with everything that I have. I express my emotions openly, sometimes when unnecessary, but I am incapable of keeping my mouth shut.
9. I have the spirit of a child and I throw tantrums. I remain pissed for about 10 minutes.
10. I grew up on a farm, and I am proud of that upbringing. I am not kidding when I say, repeatedly, that I am a homegrown country girl.
11. I have an amazing child. He keeps me sane, most of the time, and is a daily reminder that hard work most certainly does pay off. Success is never free, but the payout is always worth the effort.
12. I want a busy lifestyle; I want to write and teach and pursue the creativity that I have been blessed with. I want to travel and experience every part of this world.
13. I also want to settle down and build a family.
14. I have never been prone to dating. I think it is exhausting and cumbersome and reaps little reward. If I don't like you, I don't call you back. I am turned off easily - I believe this is the reason I always seem to have epic relationships.
15. I am really into "epic" anything right now. I am sure I use the term too loosely and will soon become bored it.
16. I have been in love once in my life. Or I thought I was in love, I have since changed my mind.
17. Stress causes me to pull away. I push the people out and work alone to solve my issues. I hate asking for help.
18. I have dictionary.com text me the word of the day - this excites me. New vocabulary has become a highlight of my days. And this makes me sound very pathetic :/
19. I make a lot of faces. Unintentionally, I am sure it goes hand in hand with my habit of expression. I don't hide feeling well, if at all.
20. I talk a lot of shit. I am not good at pool, beer pong, or darts. But I am pretty damn good at convincing my competition otherwise.
21. I hate repeating myself.
22. I have a hard time dealing with the emotions of others (bizarre because I am so passionate).
23. I get mad when I feel I am not taken seriously.
24. I will give every person I meet a chance, sometimes two. Life is too short to be angry.
25. Though I am a little nutty, I feel that I am pretty diplomatic. I hate fighting. I hate arguing. I have a bad habit of letting my language take control of a situation, but I will almost always admit when I am wrong.
26. I have confidence in my nerdyness, weirdness, whatever you may call it. I know I am a little crazy, but that craziness makes me feel alive.
27. I lose interest in things sometimes too quickly. Good luck trying to change that.
28. I am a tough gal - I have overcome a lot of rubbish in my short 23 years. I embrace challenge and I thrive off of adrenaline. I feel that I am most productive in stressful situations.
29. I read more than any other person I know. I love literature for the language first, and then the story.
30. I am loyal. I am brutally honest. And I fight for what I believe in.
31. I get what I want because a.) I am stubborn and unrelenting and b.) I fight.
32. I love music, as most do. And I am open to almost every genre.
33. And I am totally the type to blast depressing, slit-your-wrists and cry your eyes out over a stupid boy tunes when I am blue.
34. I love to cook and I am pretty amazing at it.
35. Most days, outside of work, I can be found in cut offs and band t-shirt. I am a nerd.
36. I love hole in the wall bars.
37. I love to dance. I dance in the shower. I dance when I brush my teeth. I dance around the kitchen when I cook. I don't give a damn where I am, I dance. :]
38. I learned to ride a horse when I learned how to walk. I was raised in the rodeo arena and spent my toddler years romping through the dirt and bathing in buckets in the grand stands. I rode the hair off of any four legged beast I came in contact with (goats, sheep, horses, cows, dogs, etc.) - this is a lifestyle I lost after my parents divorced. Damn them.
39. I drop the "f" word a lot. Though far from classy, it remains one of my favorite words of the English language.
40. In all of the chaos, and drama that is inescapable in life I have learned this much: life is worth every drop of bullshit. It is worth the tears, the anger, and all of the negative things that change you. Cry and yell and cuss and throw tantrums, be stubborn and persistant and ambitious - don't skip a beat. I don't want to miss out on anything, I want to be apart of every new experience that presents itself IN my life.
I am sure this list is incomplete, and I will continue to add to it in the future.
Anywhere but here. So I do what I do best in these situations, I spill my jumbled nonsense into print. I have compiled a list of random things that make me happy (and some that really piss me off). I do this in an attempt assuage my apathy. If you are of the bored and unemployed - the people that really have nothing better to do than listen to the bullshit of an angry woman - please read on and find comfort in the realization that you're not the only disorganized individual residing in Phoenix Arizona - or wherever you live. Enjoy.
1. My father nicknamed my Ruby Begonia at the age of 3. I am sure he meant Scarlett Begonia, in which case makes me somewhat cool.
2. I ran into a wall at the age of 13 and broke my pinky toe. Even more hilarious, I had a cast up to my shin that I busted because I refused to stop dancing simply because some doctor ordered otherwise.
3. I am a dreamer; I have a lot of ambition and plan on slowly taking over the world. (Metaphorically speaking) I will have two Pulitzers at some point in this life and an outlandish collection of my bullshit in print - i.e ridiculous novels.
4. Writing is a huge part of my life. I have absolutely no organizational skills to apply to this talent, a defect that I am sure is holding me from my success. But I am stubborn and I continue to hack away at my dream.
5. I have problems with ignorance in people - I have been quoted saying that, "ignorance simply means that you're not smart enough to be stupid." I stand by that.
6. I fall in love with everything - everything is my favorite.
7. I come from a huge family but hardly stay in contact. This really depresses me.
8. I am ruled by my emotions; I am a very passionate person. I love and hate with everything that I have. I express my emotions openly, sometimes when unnecessary, but I am incapable of keeping my mouth shut.
9. I have the spirit of a child and I throw tantrums. I remain pissed for about 10 minutes.
10. I grew up on a farm, and I am proud of that upbringing. I am not kidding when I say, repeatedly, that I am a homegrown country girl.
11. I have an amazing child. He keeps me sane, most of the time, and is a daily reminder that hard work most certainly does pay off. Success is never free, but the payout is always worth the effort.
12. I want a busy lifestyle; I want to write and teach and pursue the creativity that I have been blessed with. I want to travel and experience every part of this world.
13. I also want to settle down and build a family.
14. I have never been prone to dating. I think it is exhausting and cumbersome and reaps little reward. If I don't like you, I don't call you back. I am turned off easily - I believe this is the reason I always seem to have epic relationships.
15. I am really into "epic" anything right now. I am sure I use the term too loosely and will soon become bored it.
16. I have been in love once in my life. Or I thought I was in love, I have since changed my mind.
17. Stress causes me to pull away. I push the people out and work alone to solve my issues. I hate asking for help.
18. I have dictionary.com text me the word of the day - this excites me. New vocabulary has become a highlight of my days. And this makes me sound very pathetic :/
19. I make a lot of faces. Unintentionally, I am sure it goes hand in hand with my habit of expression. I don't hide feeling well, if at all.
20. I talk a lot of shit. I am not good at pool, beer pong, or darts. But I am pretty damn good at convincing my competition otherwise.
21. I hate repeating myself.
22. I have a hard time dealing with the emotions of others (bizarre because I am so passionate).
23. I get mad when I feel I am not taken seriously.
24. I will give every person I meet a chance, sometimes two. Life is too short to be angry.
25. Though I am a little nutty, I feel that I am pretty diplomatic. I hate fighting. I hate arguing. I have a bad habit of letting my language take control of a situation, but I will almost always admit when I am wrong.
26. I have confidence in my nerdyness, weirdness, whatever you may call it. I know I am a little crazy, but that craziness makes me feel alive.
27. I lose interest in things sometimes too quickly. Good luck trying to change that.
28. I am a tough gal - I have overcome a lot of rubbish in my short 23 years. I embrace challenge and I thrive off of adrenaline. I feel that I am most productive in stressful situations.
29. I read more than any other person I know. I love literature for the language first, and then the story.
30. I am loyal. I am brutally honest. And I fight for what I believe in.
31. I get what I want because a.) I am stubborn and unrelenting and b.) I fight.
32. I love music, as most do. And I am open to almost every genre.
33. And I am totally the type to blast depressing, slit-your-wrists and cry your eyes out over a stupid boy tunes when I am blue.
34. I love to cook and I am pretty amazing at it.
35. Most days, outside of work, I can be found in cut offs and band t-shirt. I am a nerd.
36. I love hole in the wall bars.
37. I love to dance. I dance in the shower. I dance when I brush my teeth. I dance around the kitchen when I cook. I don't give a damn where I am, I dance. :]
38. I learned to ride a horse when I learned how to walk. I was raised in the rodeo arena and spent my toddler years romping through the dirt and bathing in buckets in the grand stands. I rode the hair off of any four legged beast I came in contact with (goats, sheep, horses, cows, dogs, etc.) - this is a lifestyle I lost after my parents divorced. Damn them.
39. I drop the "f" word a lot. Though far from classy, it remains one of my favorite words of the English language.
40. In all of the chaos, and drama that is inescapable in life I have learned this much: life is worth every drop of bullshit. It is worth the tears, the anger, and all of the negative things that change you. Cry and yell and cuss and throw tantrums, be stubborn and persistant and ambitious - don't skip a beat. I don't want to miss out on anything, I want to be apart of every new experience that presents itself IN my life.
I am sure this list is incomplete, and I will continue to add to it in the future.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Just A Small Town Girl
I have been shuffling through the memory box lately - organizing each former piece of my life and tucking them away into the past. I have come across several journals, as you have obviously been reading, that have brought the past back into my life. Many entries are simply the rants of an angry ex girlfriend and some are the tearful confessions of a broken heart - but each of them has brought my growth from that point, full circle. I have grown so much in the past few years - I am discovering a whole new woman hiding beneath the skin of a girl. I still run around playing dress up, and stand on my tip toes in the adult world - but I am no longer sitting at the children's table. I am making my mark and learning the comfort of my skin.
I found the following from may of 2007. It was after my transition of small town girl to Phoenix fashionista ;] - I have definitely changed.
**********************************************************
I used to love lazy Sundays: sleeping in, a mid day coffee run, an afternoon in the park - or even just a drive through the country. Oh how I miss Walla Walla.
Well, all of that is gone. my coffee run forced me out of my mother's estate and onto a six lane "road" - which by Walla Walla standards would be considered an over sized freeway. Once there, I was shoulder to shoulder with about 30 other people - screaming on cell phones, thumbing away on palm pilots, and monitoring the stock exchange - all demanding their triple non fat no-whip no-flavor extra hot latte. When did life become so complex? There I stood, in a boho skirt, flipflops and over sized sunglasses - and I felt about two feet tall. In a city where most are worth millions, how can a country girl squeeze her way in? Not even my years spend in San Diego could have prepared my for this culture shock. Though the weather is absolutely gorgeous, and my mother's estate closely resembles something out of Sunset Magazine - the intimidation of the roads, the traffic, even the grocery store is more than enough to outweigh all of the above. I miss Walla Walla.
In this life, I have learned that there are two types of people: those that FIGHT and those that choose FLIGHT. (Please forgive me, this does sound cliche) I have fought my whole life for what I believe in and what I thought I deserved. I don't go down easily and I'm stubborn as hell. All of that has changed, however, and I now find myself a little less zealous and enthusiastic - I have become ambivalent and probably a little lazy. I pick and choose my battles, which in many ways is a good quality to possess simply because it avoids drama and saves me energy. So now I choose flight as what I believe to be a healthy defense alternative. Who else do you know that can pick up their entire life and in one day move 1300 miles away? Personally, I don't know many. So you can add "impulsive" to my list of character qualities.
This city amazes me; it is big, hungry, and ready to eat anyone alive that can't adapt quickly to its fast pace environment. I'm not going to sugar coat my fear of being swallowed alive, nor am I going to say that I have confidence in my survival - because neither are true. I do, however, know this: change is nessecary. Sometimes in life, in every life, you're moving along on cruise control and you hit a wall. At this point, you have two options. Sometimes one may outweigh the other in benefits, but this is very rare. Typically we are forced to make a decision that is irrational and against our beliefs. I had come to this stop light. I felt like the entire world was happening all around me; I was standing still, not moving, thinking or even breathing directly in the center of all of this commotion. I was hungry for something new, and then life threw me a 60mph curveball that hit right between the eyes and I made a choice: I chose flight.
I don't know where I'm headed next, I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow. But I do know this: life is full of surprises, some good and some bad. Every day we are faced with new choices, challenges, and adventures. Why should we wait for something to just happen to us? Grab life by the horns, ride the bull, and if you fall off then just stand up, brush yourself off, and get back on the son of a bitch.
I found the following from may of 2007. It was after my transition of small town girl to Phoenix fashionista ;] - I have definitely changed.
**********************************************************
I used to love lazy Sundays: sleeping in, a mid day coffee run, an afternoon in the park - or even just a drive through the country. Oh how I miss Walla Walla.
Well, all of that is gone. my coffee run forced me out of my mother's estate and onto a six lane "road" - which by Walla Walla standards would be considered an over sized freeway. Once there, I was shoulder to shoulder with about 30 other people - screaming on cell phones, thumbing away on palm pilots, and monitoring the stock exchange - all demanding their triple non fat no-whip no-flavor extra hot latte. When did life become so complex? There I stood, in a boho skirt, flipflops and over sized sunglasses - and I felt about two feet tall. In a city where most are worth millions, how can a country girl squeeze her way in? Not even my years spend in San Diego could have prepared my for this culture shock. Though the weather is absolutely gorgeous, and my mother's estate closely resembles something out of Sunset Magazine - the intimidation of the roads, the traffic, even the grocery store is more than enough to outweigh all of the above. I miss Walla Walla.
In this life, I have learned that there are two types of people: those that FIGHT and those that choose FLIGHT. (Please forgive me, this does sound cliche) I have fought my whole life for what I believe in and what I thought I deserved. I don't go down easily and I'm stubborn as hell. All of that has changed, however, and I now find myself a little less zealous and enthusiastic - I have become ambivalent and probably a little lazy. I pick and choose my battles, which in many ways is a good quality to possess simply because it avoids drama and saves me energy. So now I choose flight as what I believe to be a healthy defense alternative. Who else do you know that can pick up their entire life and in one day move 1300 miles away? Personally, I don't know many. So you can add "impulsive" to my list of character qualities.
This city amazes me; it is big, hungry, and ready to eat anyone alive that can't adapt quickly to its fast pace environment. I'm not going to sugar coat my fear of being swallowed alive, nor am I going to say that I have confidence in my survival - because neither are true. I do, however, know this: change is nessecary. Sometimes in life, in every life, you're moving along on cruise control and you hit a wall. At this point, you have two options. Sometimes one may outweigh the other in benefits, but this is very rare. Typically we are forced to make a decision that is irrational and against our beliefs. I had come to this stop light. I felt like the entire world was happening all around me; I was standing still, not moving, thinking or even breathing directly in the center of all of this commotion. I was hungry for something new, and then life threw me a 60mph curveball that hit right between the eyes and I made a choice: I chose flight.
I don't know where I'm headed next, I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow. But I do know this: life is full of surprises, some good and some bad. Every day we are faced with new choices, challenges, and adventures. Why should we wait for something to just happen to us? Grab life by the horns, ride the bull, and if you fall off then just stand up, brush yourself off, and get back on the son of a bitch.
Friday, May 8, 2009
'Keys to doors that don't exist'
Another pulled from the depths. Written in September of 2007 - I promise to post something fresh soon!
Sitting here motionless
thoughts in thoughts, and mouths left speechless.
The finality of goodbye is endless,
I close these eyes and a sigh escapes my lips.
Screams fall deaf to my ears
my face is cold, and streaked with tears.
The softness of a man, so passionate, so sincere -
yet I am ignorant to his touch, I am imprisoned with fear.
Pieces of this heart make trails in the past;
I am absent of the present, trapped and unmasked.
These remnants of my heart - the last of the last
lay scattered like the crumbs that Hansel surpassed.
I am frozen, afraid to open these eyes.
The fear of the present, the echos of lies -
they captivate emotion, and leave my blind.
I am unable to see the rain giving way to sunrise.
Each of my days bleeds into the next.
Breathe in, breathe out, love left a mess.
A hollowed vision, a hollowed chest -
love has this soul, and time took the rest.
Leave me to sit, in my self-made shrine?
Leave me to wait, rotting in time?
Give me your breath, feed me your line
follow the trail that those before you left behind.
Sitting here motionless
thoughts in thoughts, and mouths left speechless.
The finality of goodbye is endless,
I close these eyes and a sigh escapes my lips.
Screams fall deaf to my ears
my face is cold, and streaked with tears.
The softness of a man, so passionate, so sincere -
yet I am ignorant to his touch, I am imprisoned with fear.
Pieces of this heart make trails in the past;
I am absent of the present, trapped and unmasked.
These remnants of my heart - the last of the last
lay scattered like the crumbs that Hansel surpassed.
I am frozen, afraid to open these eyes.
The fear of the present, the echos of lies -
they captivate emotion, and leave my blind.
I am unable to see the rain giving way to sunrise.
Each of my days bleeds into the next.
Breathe in, breathe out, love left a mess.
A hollowed vision, a hollowed chest -
love has this soul, and time took the rest.
Leave me to sit, in my self-made shrine?
Leave me to wait, rotting in time?
Give me your breath, feed me your line
follow the trail that those before you left behind.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
take me down to the paradise city
I pulled another piece from the archives. I wrote this in March of 2008. Enjoy:]
An April sunset paints the sky with a crimson glow.
And the Santa Monica breeze and palm trees hint a promise of paradise.
A promise that masks the street lights - a badge of fame concealing the city's hunger.
"come down and waste away with me"
The seduction of this night cools my hell. My anger. My passion.
I have many names for my rage.
But like a serpent I am shedding this skin.
Leaving behind a life once lived. Loved. But barely remembered.
What have I become?
This confusion wages war in my hear.
My search for answers only unveils my captivation for this place.
This city houses me and all of those like me.
We stare blindly at this painting of paradise -
knowing the visage, understanding the hunger
yet hiding behind our own mask of ignorance.
It seems I've been in metamorphosis for too long.
Should answers take this long to find?
I've forgotten the question; my search has become tiresome.
Archaic. Obsolete.
Too long I have been mesmerized with forgetting.
I feel as though I have been running forever.
Palm trees promise me paradise,
through the evening exhibit of fame.
I am still searching. Still hiding. Still sloughing a day old life.
Exhaustion is familiar to me, but I cannot blink.
I find my sanctity, seclusion and security in the pink, sun kissed skies.
An April sunset paints the sky with a crimson glow.
And the Santa Monica breeze and palm trees hint a promise of paradise.
A promise that masks the street lights - a badge of fame concealing the city's hunger.
"come down and waste away with me"
The seduction of this night cools my hell. My anger. My passion.
I have many names for my rage.
But like a serpent I am shedding this skin.
Leaving behind a life once lived. Loved. But barely remembered.
What have I become?
This confusion wages war in my hear.
My search for answers only unveils my captivation for this place.
This city houses me and all of those like me.
We stare blindly at this painting of paradise -
knowing the visage, understanding the hunger
yet hiding behind our own mask of ignorance.
It seems I've been in metamorphosis for too long.
Should answers take this long to find?
I've forgotten the question; my search has become tiresome.
Archaic. Obsolete.
Too long I have been mesmerized with forgetting.
I feel as though I have been running forever.
Palm trees promise me paradise,
through the evening exhibit of fame.
I am still searching. Still hiding. Still sloughing a day old life.
Exhaustion is familiar to me, but I cannot blink.
I find my sanctity, seclusion and security in the pink, sun kissed skies.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Where the green grass grows.
I haven't been sleeping. I can't slow my thoughts long enough to make peace with the day. I have been so riddled with indifference; or maybe the feelings that I am having are just battling for dominance. As a result, I am left with only apathy and isolation. Living inside of my head has proven itself to be a detriment to my well being - but I haven't figured out how to stop the commotion. I haven't found the switch. It must be hidden somewhere beneath my logical self, and I rarely waste my time digging through those parts. So the only possible outcome of my madness is self-destruction. I have these moments of complete insanity; I waste too much time trying to decipher the life around me. Every breath has meaning, every moment holds value. Trying to crack the code of God is an impossibility - but I still take a stab at it every now and then.
So after accepting defeat, I think about home. When I have exhausted all internal quarrels, and when I have burned through my last wick, I find the only stable tranquility left - home. I grew up between two small towns, so "home" is a medley of farmland expanding the belly of eastern Washington. From Moses Lake to Walla Walla, my roots run deep. I am the farmer's daughter, the cowboy's little girl. I am that scrawny little blue eyed gal chasing butterflies in the alfalfa fields. Those fields that stretch from horizon east to sunset west - the fields that blanket the valley in the familiar scent of summer: the blooming flora fused with late august rain. If I ever close my eyes, and indulge in a brief moment of nostalgia, I can still smell the sweetness of those fields. Like a conch, memories flood and take me back to that heartland. That home. The place where the sun meets the earth and explodes into a brilliant, prismatic burst of color. The place where God and nature and man bleed in unison, in perfect harmony.
I spent my youth conquering that farm. I had an expansive 250 acres at my fingertips and I took complete advantage of my surroundings. I swam in irrigation canals, and shot coyotes with paintball guns. I constructed forts between the trunks of pine trees, and hosted tea parties in vacant chicken coops. My imagination was seizing; there was no fantasy that couldn't be recreated. I utilized my resources - the land and the earth and the air - and created excitement from the ordinary. The magic of summertime - the freedom of long evenings on an enormous playground - became the definition of my childhood. Every solid, wholesome memory I have stored can be attributed to that farm and my existence there. Life in rural America is similar to living beneath a snow globe: your environment is fantastical, and yet nothing seems to exist beyond the perimeters of alfalfa seeded land.
I miss that age. The pace was slower, the worries were few, my life was different. I imagined my world and breathed life into at the start of every summer day. I believed that nothing existed beyond the walls of my land. I believed in the beauty of my world, and the people that inhabited it. Farming is a way of life, a culture. It is a love affair with the benefits of the land - a tender kiss upon the fruits of nature. It is an appreciation and understanding of hard work. It is the ability to take nothing and mold it into something. It is me, a homegrown country girl. But the farmer's daughter, and the cowboy's little girl grew up. I left to conquer the world; I left to deepen my footprints on this earth. I put use to my wild imagination and concluded that it could reach beyond what was in front of me. I wanted everything and settled for nothing - I still have that ambition. My roots extend deep into the Columbia Valley, and when my world becomes distorted I will still find myself escaping to those fields. The code of God is written in the earth - I find comfort in this.
"Dear Jesse, as the moon lingers a moment over the bitterroots, before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song. I find I am humming softly; not to the music, but something else; some place else; a place remembered; a field of grass where no one seemed to have been; except a deer; and the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you, dancing in my awkward arms." - Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
So after accepting defeat, I think about home. When I have exhausted all internal quarrels, and when I have burned through my last wick, I find the only stable tranquility left - home. I grew up between two small towns, so "home" is a medley of farmland expanding the belly of eastern Washington. From Moses Lake to Walla Walla, my roots run deep. I am the farmer's daughter, the cowboy's little girl. I am that scrawny little blue eyed gal chasing butterflies in the alfalfa fields. Those fields that stretch from horizon east to sunset west - the fields that blanket the valley in the familiar scent of summer: the blooming flora fused with late august rain. If I ever close my eyes, and indulge in a brief moment of nostalgia, I can still smell the sweetness of those fields. Like a conch, memories flood and take me back to that heartland. That home. The place where the sun meets the earth and explodes into a brilliant, prismatic burst of color. The place where God and nature and man bleed in unison, in perfect harmony.
I spent my youth conquering that farm. I had an expansive 250 acres at my fingertips and I took complete advantage of my surroundings. I swam in irrigation canals, and shot coyotes with paintball guns. I constructed forts between the trunks of pine trees, and hosted tea parties in vacant chicken coops. My imagination was seizing; there was no fantasy that couldn't be recreated. I utilized my resources - the land and the earth and the air - and created excitement from the ordinary. The magic of summertime - the freedom of long evenings on an enormous playground - became the definition of my childhood. Every solid, wholesome memory I have stored can be attributed to that farm and my existence there. Life in rural America is similar to living beneath a snow globe: your environment is fantastical, and yet nothing seems to exist beyond the perimeters of alfalfa seeded land.
I miss that age. The pace was slower, the worries were few, my life was different. I imagined my world and breathed life into at the start of every summer day. I believed that nothing existed beyond the walls of my land. I believed in the beauty of my world, and the people that inhabited it. Farming is a way of life, a culture. It is a love affair with the benefits of the land - a tender kiss upon the fruits of nature. It is an appreciation and understanding of hard work. It is the ability to take nothing and mold it into something. It is me, a homegrown country girl. But the farmer's daughter, and the cowboy's little girl grew up. I left to conquer the world; I left to deepen my footprints on this earth. I put use to my wild imagination and concluded that it could reach beyond what was in front of me. I wanted everything and settled for nothing - I still have that ambition. My roots extend deep into the Columbia Valley, and when my world becomes distorted I will still find myself escaping to those fields. The code of God is written in the earth - I find comfort in this.
"Dear Jesse, as the moon lingers a moment over the bitterroots, before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song. I find I am humming softly; not to the music, but something else; some place else; a place remembered; a field of grass where no one seemed to have been; except a deer; and the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you, dancing in my awkward arms." - Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
Friday, May 1, 2009
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
- Captain Corelli's Mandolin. "Love is the beauty of the soul." --St. Augustine
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
- Captain Corelli's Mandolin. "Love is the beauty of the soul." --St. Augustine
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