A couple days ago I was texting with a friend who has been having a rough time. Amongst the dialog, I expressed lots of niceties but one of the things I said to them was that I understood and have sometimes been in their place…
There usually comes a state of disbelief shortly after I say things like that… “but you’re awesome, beautiful, make wonderful art, you got a rad family, you just look so happy“.
You know the whole saying of “you don’t really know what people are going through unless you’ve been in their shoes”? Well let me tell you, that no amount of “looks happy” means that you are. We can fool ourselves with Facebook posts, happy photos, smiles and selfies and still feel like it isn’t enough. Well, here’s my truth: I haven’t been there. I AM there. I’m not gonna front, especially not about this.
I have spent a good portion of the past year in therapy, or as we say, “doing the work”. Why? Because there is always room to grow and learn, it’s not always a place for the severely broken. At least that’s why I started down the journey cause even though the light at the end of the hallway seems close, it always seems to keep moving away just as you think you’re about to get there. Kinda like that scene in Poltergeist except without the granny panties cause…. FUCK. THAT.
I go and talk and hash and cry and holy shit has it been one of the most emotionally painful years of my life. So much salt has come from me that one would believe I am one with the sea.
Self discovery is a motherfucker, especially when you uncover all the dust and shit you pushed under the rug – some voluntarily, some not so much. And when you finally arrive to the sources of so many of your ails, well, there’s the lightbulb flash and explanation to so much. When you realize where the roots to those fucking seeds come from? Talk about an epic weed you can’t just pull from the garden.
So I say this without fear of stigma or being viewed as “less than”, or “broken” or “damaged”…
Hi, I am an anxious person. I fidget, I bite the print of my thumb, I twirl my hair or sometimes I hold onto things tighter than normal. I think too much about so many things to the point of exhaustion. Sometimes I don’t sleep well, sometimes it is all I want to do. I take a simple statement and break it down into multiple questions…. “what did they mean by that? OK? or ok? I wonder if they’re mad? Are they mad or am I reading into shit? What did I do wrong?”… On days where I am lucky, I wake up without feeling anvils on my chest and getting out of bed doesn’t feel like a chore. Then came the day where it sent me into an attack and I didn’t even know what was happening. Why do I feel like I can’t breathe? Scary, especially when it had never played out in that manner so you have no idea to even get off that ledge of uncool.
Truth be told, for someone as mouthy and open as I am, I have suffered about this in silence for quite some time. I don’t reveal myself nearly as much mainly because I seem to have a track record with “friends” who have taken me for granted or horribly misread me. Why drop the guard? Why invite people to your kingdom when they only want to visit and not make a home in you? Ya know?
Having anxiety brought out a fear in me that I have never felt. I am on the cusp of my 43rd birthday and having a myriad of medical things pop up sent me on the tailspin of questioning my own mortality. When you’re someone with an overactive mind? Well, enjoy that fucking ride. It’s terrifying. It led me to places I never thought I would be in, it made me mistrust so much, so many and my own self. I stopped feeling heard or like what I had to say wasn’t valid as much. So much so that I stepped outside of myself in hopes of feeling anything besides fear or over-analysis.
I am trying: To be self compassionate, self forgiving, self caring. To get it under control or sometimes, to not control one fuck of it and just let time play it all out the way it should. Stop looking back in order to be able to move forward, all while trying to be more present instead of looking into the way to distant future. Self care can be really hard! Even more when you’re always putting others ahead of your own needs. I catch myself doing it a lot, helping others see the worth in themselves. But that shit is a fucking drug, you’re the dealer and you can’t even dip into your own stash to do yourself a solid.
I’m so incredibly grateful for those very few I allowed in to see me, who met me half way with compassion, support, understanding, who let me wipe my tears on them. They aren’t many but they’ve listened, encouraged, told me shit I didn’t want to hear, spoke to me in ways I hadn’t been on the receiving end of in quite some time. My relationships and connections with my people are about as vital as water and oxygen. It’s a force I live and drive off of. And when you find that commonality, when you know someone has seen you in a place where you feel like you’re cracking or bursting at the seams and still loves you anyway? Shit, that’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow I am willing to go to voracious and gluttonous states for. That’s when the claws come out and you want to sink them in so deep. It’s those connections I hang onto because in doing so I am realizing that this place I am in isn’t just mine. It’s a hippie compound of humanity that I share and as of late it seems there are so many of us in this place of anxiousness. I am one of them and if you are too? Shit. Know you’re not alone in it. I am doing what I can to learn and accept that this is a part of who I am. Just know I see you, I hope you can see me too.
Under its eye.
The moment arrives when you decide it’s time to drop some realness on Facebook. No music links, no regurgitated articles, no politics…. just some dirty, emotional realness. You type it out, edit and re-read it over and over and then you click submit. Then your internet connection happens to drop at that exact same moment. You know what happens next and in my case it was a series of expletives and annoyance at my inability to remember to copy and paste shit. One would think I would have learned that one by now. One would think.
In any event, considering I am trying to see the signs in next to everything these days, I decided maybe that was the universe telling me that maybe I just needed to sit on that one for a bit and come back at it with a different set of eyes. I really hate the whole “things happen for a reason” narrative though. It can be true mind you, but it has become so overused that it has lost its meaning. It’s cliche, trite and sometimes patronizing. Get out of here with that shit.
“Re-write it Ivonne, and make it better”
As usual life has taken on all kinds of shifts and in those shifts I have found places of silence and introspection but in turn I am also finding pockets where I have so much inside me that I can’t find enough places to put it. So much so that I feel like I am going to explode from this gamut of emotions that have been coursing their way through me. There has been a lot of crying. People associate tears with weakness and sadness but I am discovering that in my case, and maybe yours too, that saline projecting from one’s eyeballs is just one more way to release, to show that things really hit home or to be a demonstration of real, transparent vulnerability.
Mortality has been on my mind a lot and with it come the never ending lists of existential questions. The big ones we like to ignore from asking ourselves. Have I accomplished much? Could I be doing more? What could I be doing less of? If my time came, could I say I did it right or would I go with heaviness and regrets? See where I am going with this? Huge questions and it has been a heaviness that has lingered to the point of pushing me to the edge. This shit is scary and for people like me, whose brain can’t seem to stop overanalyzing and playing shit out in my head, it can make one downright salty. I am trying not be salty.
With that in mind, I am also feeling utterly full and grateful about so many things. I am working on new art for a 3 person show in Chicago this April. With it comes a lot of digging deep, challenging myself and just hoping that what I have to offer touches someone. I know it does and has but the insecure person in me loves to self sabotage. Working on that shit. But to get to grace the glorious black walls of Ars Memoria in the company of some utterly talented women just really keeps me humble that someone believes in me that much to ask me to be a part of it.
The other day I read this article that really fucked me up in the best of ways. It touched me in a form of personal validation and spoke to me a lot about who and how I am. I tend to be misread a lot so when you see something that not only validates how you navigate your own waters and in turn leaves you with “and it’s ok if you do” feeling? Mind blown. In turn it has sparked some really interesting conversations and allowed me to dig deeper into my own way of processing.
I will say that as of late I have had some really rewarding experiences and conversations with some of my nearest and dearest. Over the years I have watched my circle decrease in diameter and it has really left me in this smaller place where I am surrounded by less quantity and a hell of a lot more quality. My closest relationships are teaching me a lot about myself and in turn it has allowed me to grow by leaps and bounds in ways that have no measure. There’s a large dose of humanity when you try to be conscientious and selfless. The way I communicate is changing in a manner that is becoming this no holds barred freedom, where my truths roam like a herd of wild stallions with no fence. Operating from a place of truth, humanity and taking complete ownership of who I am, what I am, my feelings… even the really hard ones. The really dark ones – and you have no idea how many of those I have. In turn it is lifting anvils off my shoulders because I have surrounded myself with people who know me, play with me and are still more than willing to drink from me even if the edges of my cup are chipped, jagged and could make your lips bleed. Those who take me in and truly see me in ways that shape my flaws as perfection.
There’s this moment where one turns the corner and the eyes are a little more focused and you see things with far more perception and depth of field. A little more awake, in tune, but still looking for a lot of the answers – some of which I may never get. But that’s ok too. Getting there is part of the fun and lesson, even if it hurts like a motherfucker. (Ah shit, shuffle just brought up “Time” by Hans Zimmer while I type this…. here come the waterworks…) And in this turn you find yourself open hearted, seeing beauty in the most broken of things, falling in love with Everything and Everyone. Trying to stay in love with the world while I still have it. What a world it is.
And that’s where I am.
All this hype for a year to begin and then you realize, you may not be sure about things you would like to accomplish with it? Here are some suggestions to help inspire you.
- Don’t wait for Spring for “spring cleaning”. Why wait? Start the year off with a clean slate, literally!
- Take advantage of the sales and get yourself some new, crispy bed sheets.
- Delete profiles and accounts from websites you no longer frequent or use. Less e-mail!
- Pay it forward, that small gesture can be a game changer and not just for the recipient.
- Stop hoarding bullshit. You know what I am talking about.
- Say goodbye to relationships that do not reciprocate what you give to them. It is better to be alone than in company that doesn’t give you the place you deserve.
- Do something completely out of your element.
- Put your phone away from time to time. Documenting everything is taking away from your truly enjoying the moment.
- Have a bunch of e-friends you have never met in person? Bite the bullet, travel somewhere new and meet them!
- Take a road trip and stop in kooky spots to take photos.
- Cancel your cable. Less tv time and you have extra cash!
- Start a new journal for art, writing or scrapbooking.
- Do a 365 project. If it’s too much commitment, do a “once a week” project. Have the photos bound in a book and you can re-live your year in imagery.
- Speak up. You are your biggest advocate.
- Learn the freedom of leaving the house without make-up.
- Sign up for Postcrossing and exchange postcards with strangers from around the globe. Or do it with your friends.
- Tell those you love why they’re wonderful. We all need to hear it and life is too short to be holding it all in.
- Have a wishlist on Amazon or somewhere else? This year pick at least one thing and buy it for yourself. Stop waiting! If you want it, buy the damn thing.
- Call people out on their garbage behavior. In this day and age, we have to look out for each other.
- If you ever find yourself in a drive thru and some extra cash, pay for the stuff for the people behind you. Unless they have their brights on, they get nothing. Kidding! Well, not really.
- Save a life. Rescue or adopt a critter and gain a new love. Just make sure you’re ready forever, not till your next landlord doesn’t accept pets, ok?
- Take up a new hobby that is totally outside of your comfort zone: gardening, knitting, painting in a new medium. Subsequently, be that one guy in the knitting circle boys! That’s an untapped resource of ladies. HOT women knit! I know a few of them.
- See that massive influx of garbage in your email box? Yes, all those mailing lists you signed up for (or didn’t!)? Do yourself a favor, unsubscribe from all of them.
- Go through your closet and if you haven’t worn it in 1-2 years, get rid of it! Clutter is toxic! Sentimental value items like wedding garb and the sweater that belonged to your friend that passed away do not apply. Also? Replace all your wire and plastic hangers with wood ones. We’re adults now.
- Tell people how you really feel. Even the things that hurt to say.
- That print or piece of art you always admired? Get it, frame it and put it somewhere you can revel in it daily.
- Pay compliments. Tons of them. A small set of nice words in any form can make someone’s entire day… and not just to people you know, do it to complete strangers. Good slices of honesty make everyone win.
- Have breakfast for dinner, in bed. You’re an adult now! You can be irresponsible and nonsensical from time to time. It isn’t going to kill you.
- Buy yourself fresh flowers. Stop waiting for people to do it for you. Buy your dude flowers.
- Get yourself a Q&A Journal. Anyone can fill in a blank once a day. Journaling with a shortcut.
- Stop hoarding recipes on Pinterest and actually make one.
- When you want to gripe, bitch and complain on Facebook posts, stop yourself. Type it and delete it. You’ll feel a lot better when you realize you aren’t *that person* we all can’t handle.
- Go to new restaurants. We all have our “go to” joints but there is a lot of untapped gold you aren’t giving a chance.
- Start a piggy bank and every day when you get home put your change in it. When it’s full you will probably have a good $100+ in it. Take that money and do something nice for yourself with it. Yes, I am encouraging you to not pay bills with it. No point in busting your ass if you never do anything for you.
- Recycle. In this day and age it’s a responsibility. Sorry. Wait a minute, I am not sorry. You should be doing this shit already.
- Buy used, handmade, support the mom & pops, support artists, buy local.
- Write a really nice quote or love note and leave it on the cork board of your local coffee house or grocery store.
- Dance around your house shamelessly, in your underwear, while singing your favorite guilty pleasure at the top of your lungs. Don’t give a fuck who sees you. It’s your house dammit.
- Get that heavy burden off your chest. Send in a postcard to Postsecret and liberate yourself a little.
- Listen to music, anytime, all the time. Build a soundtrack to your life.
- Take risks. The only thing you have to lose is the fact you didn’t TRY.
- Make your bucket list and scratch off at least one of those things by December.
- Don’t let people dismiss your feelings. They’re yours, they’re valid and mean something.
- Tell people you love them ALL THE TIME. We may know, but it’s also nice to be told.
- All those people on Facebook who do nothing but piss you off or irritate you? Hide or remove them even! Seriously. We all have differences of opinions and not everyone is going to jive with you. IT’S OK. Your reading their feed does not equate friendship or love.
- Snail mail! I cannot stress this one enough… That note or postcard you send means a lot more than your e-mail, text or Facebook wall birthday post.
- Do something for someone who cannot repay you. Revel in the magic that is giving without receiving.
- Carry a pocket sized journal on you, write down the good you experienced that day. Go back and read it when you are having a bad day.
- Speak the truth. Dishonesty is toxic… no one likes that business.
- Don’t wait anymore. You may never get that chance again. Use this rule wherever it applies best.
- Revel in nature. Hike, climb, skip stones on ponds, stare at the sea, collect rocks and leaves. The outdoors is the best therapy you can get… and it’s FREE.
- Get a library card. You would be so surprised how many people don’t have one! Make it a habit to go and check out some books, real ones, none of this Kindle bullshit.
- If your health permits, sign up to be a marrow donor with Be The Match. Donate some blood. Make sure you are on the organ donor list. Life is a gift! As a recipient of a life saving transfusion, I thank you in advance.
- Avoid the comments sections to news articles online. Let’s face it, they’re always full of trolls, stupid and ignorant people. Spare yourself the rise in blood pressure. Arguing with strangers on the internet is about as useful as giving a fish a bicycle for xmas.
- Put more value in your health. Not everyone may be as lucky and they would probably kill to have the health you complain about.
- Listen to music on your headphones while errand running & grocery shopping. The grocery store is a whole new place when you are blasting some Prince or Cameo in your ears. Word up.
- Humility, humility, humility. It’s great to like “you”, like what you do, but don’t be a dick about it.
- Pay attention to those who love you, forgive those who have hurt you, remove those who do not serve or benefit your existence.
- Stop saying “I’m Sorry” for things you really have nothing to be sorry about.
- Learn and master the art of saying NO. So many times we find ourselves living to please others, and at our own expense no less. It’s time to say yes to yourself. And don’t feel bad about it either!
- On the other side, learn and master the art of saying YES. Yes to invitations, to blind and new situations… sometimes we end up having the best experiences over things we second guessed
- Work on putting the fear away
- Have some free time? Volunteer it! Be it with critters, people, helping a non-profit.
- Do not underestimate the power of a candlelit bath, in silence or with your preferred music of choice.
- Practice intention and be present.
- Honor your feelings. It’s ok to have moments.
- Own your truths
Moved back to San Diego, CA
Reacquainted myself with legit Mexican food – Sorry NorCal and East Coast, SoCal wins #notreallysorry
Participated in 19 art shows and sold a lot of work
Celebrated 12 years of marriage
Took up Pilates again
Visited Chicago for the first time
Cried in front of a Monet at the Getty Center
Got my ass in therapy
Fixed a broken bridge and burned others to the motherfucking ground where they needed to be
Found a way to speak up for myself that was more productive
Wept like a baby when The Cure played A Letter To Elise
Cried with friends
Got in my first fender bender (not my fault!)
Took large risks that paid off
Shows seen: The Soft Moon, Chvrches, The Cure, Black Marble, Cold Cave, Deftones, Health
Many exquisite conversations that really broadened my perspective about so many things
Listened to a lot of killer music (not all came from 2016, bite me)
Come to think of it, that was a lot of crying. What can I say? I am more of a softie than I care to admit.
Make an effort to close drawers and cabinets all the way. This isn’t a metaphor. Like, actual cabinets and drawers. Josh’s shins will thank me.
Keep working on OSA (aka Operation Shelf Ass)
Say what I mean, mean what I say
Give time to those who really want it and make an effort to return it
Write devastatingly beautiful letters
Speaking of, more emails and less texts… or how about longwinded texts? Fair compromise.
Learn a new skill
More snail mail
Procrastinate less and manage time more efficiently (HA!)
Stay away from pay to play situations
Practice the fine art of gratitude, surrender and vulnerability
Be a pillar, wall or shoulder to those who need it
Smell good, well, better than I already do (no shame in this game)
Be present in the company of others even more by putting away my phone more
Call people out on their garbage. No being a bystander to garbage.
Visit homies who live far (time and money permitting)
Elevate the levels of giving no fucks to the things that don’t deserve my fucks.
Speaking of fucks? Fuck. Nuzzle. Cuddle. More. I like this plan.
There REALLY needs to be more tattoo work this year
Dust off the Nikon and take more photos
Hug and kiss my people hello and goodbye. Honestly, more physical contact period. No more of this sterile ass whatnot, so prepare
Drag some of those hugs out more as required
Continue to say things like: I love you, thank you, I appreciate you.
Use my own words to convey a thought, this “memes and quotes of others” as a method of communication is no bueno
BE MOTHERFUCKING PRESENT
Recently someone told me that 42 is the most perfect number in the galaxy, The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything. Here I was feeling all ancient sauce and then that gets dropped on me, kinda gives a number a whole new meaning when you look at it from that perspective. Ok then, apparently I have some serious shit to live up to.
It is no lie that the cobwebs have been growing on this here space. So much so, I have questioned as to why I continue to keep it. You’re probably thinking, “And of course, she resurrects it on her fucking birthday”. I know what this looks like, deal with it. Truth be told is this has fallen wayside to life. Like, actual LIFE. Everyone is talking about 2016 and what a raging shit show it has become. It truly has in many painful ways that I will not list here. No need to keep scratching an already broken record. But even then, I wish I could share in the sentiment entirely, but 2016 and most of 41 has been one of the most emotionally rewarding years of my life.
Moving back to San Diego really has done wonders for me, it was like reuniting with a lost love that you didn’t value enough and got a second chance to grow with again. I came back and fell into her sometimes too warm embrace, to be reminded of her grace and extension of opportunity, a place that I took for granted for so long. Every time I bear witness to her orchid colored sunsets, I just stop myself and let it serve as a reminder to be a little more grateful I get to revel in her once more.
It’s hard to look in the mirror and realize that the person staring back at you is so far removed from who she really should and could be. This was me and at the push, encouragement and support of some of the best people I have ever had the privilege to know, I decided it was time to do the work. We are always in a constant state of learning and growth and I never really realized just how true that was until I started peeling off the band aids to let the wounds dry out.
I’ve created beautiful, painfully cathartic artwork. The kind I look at and want to weep because I know the place it came from. Hell, the kind I wept over while making. This is something I have never experienced before: Not just making for the sake of making but using it as a real and very visceral outlet.
I’ve removed cinder blocks from my ankles in the form of toxic relationships with people. It’s so much easier to swim when you’re not tied to the bottom of the sea.
I confronted my fears, met, wept with and allowed myself to forgive someone who hurt me. I came at it from a place of truth, love, no expectations and exposed every fragment of my vulnerabilities to them. I am so glad I did because this process alone has been key in helping me see and understand more about myself than I thought I was capable of. And shit, I got one of my best friends back in the process.
I’m learning to establish boundaries, to not allow my feelings to be dismissed, to speak up and not hang on to things that made me feel wrong or that I don’t matter. The lid is so far off it makes me wonder why I didn’t do this sooner?
I stopped hiding behind my hair and cut the front of it right the fuck off. Like my friend Ginny said, “Welcome to THIS FACE motherfuckers”. It’s scary to alter one’s self especially when you’ve relied on a safe bet for a really long time. Most people change the outside in hopes of reinvention and oddly enough, I went the opposite direction: worked on the internality and changed the outside to reflect what was in there, somewhere. And no, I still don’t recognize myself in the mirror when I pass it but I’lll get there.
I’m working towards getting my house stronger, firmer and carrying myself with confidence. For reals. No fronts.
I know this sounds like a bunch of happy, hippie malarkey but honestly it hasn’t been that way. I have cried amounts that can fill a mason jar and they’ve all been the best of tears because they came from a place of vulnerability, honesty, support and love. I have been granted some of the most rewarding of human experiences with those who surround me. I just had to be open enough to listen and see. And fuck am I seeing…. with eyes that just got some damn lasik after being pretty damn blind.
It’s been hard and painful, but liberating and fucking incredible. I go into 42 with a lot of hope, strength and a lot of broken down walls. I’m pretty fucking proud of myself.
Chances are, if you’ve come in touch with me and shared a part of my life be it with love, friendship or interactions online, it is more than likely you could be part of my story. I exercise restraint and judgement mind you, but every connection and experience is a word and line.
Over the course of the past 15 years, I have spent a great deal of time sharing my life online. It has brought me many wonderful, cathartic moments and connected me to some amazing people. I wrote here quite a bit and then I just didn’t. It’s not like it wasn’t within good reason – you know, 3 huge relocations in less than 5 years will do that to you, but it went past the change of location.
They say when things get the hardest or when major life events occur is when you realize who your friends really are. I saw it when I ended up in the hospital at a very young age, when I got married, when Reza was born, when we had to move away and the moves that followed. That saying is incredibly and painfully true. With time comes growth, evolution within ones self – Life Happens.
But somewhere along the lines things started to change. You never realize that things are changing until you get to the point where they already have. Sometimes it takes days, months, sometimes it takes years for you to notice. You spend your time so focused on the forward and now, and the blindness of your love for a person tunes you out to the reality that they are pushing you away. So I got pushed away. All of a sudden I became one of those screws you put in your junk drawer, or the nostalgic broken toy on Andy’s shelf sitting around waiting to be played with and loved. Waiting for the day that never came and eventually would never come.
It’s an interesting situation to be put in the place of wanting answers you will never get. I don’t wish that on anyone. Lack of closure is a cancer that chips away at your soul if you let it and it is an incredibly hard pill, a giant horse sized antibiotic with no water. When the veil is lifted, when you see the ugly corpse bride underneath, you can’t un-see it anymore. I saw it and it is a cruel reality.
There comes a time where you realize that sometimes you are not put anywhere near the pedestal you give others. When you merge all of the puzzle pieces, times and scores only to realize you’re not even worth the fucking bronze medal when in your heart you’ve tried to be everything for gold. So this is where I am, trying to make peace within myself to move on. Trying to control the heartbreak of loss, the overwhelming sadness and anger when you’re made feel that what and who you are is so garbage worthy that you aren’t even worth an explanation or truth.
I have never lived my life in a manner of concealment. I have shared some amazing, glorious, painful and horrible truths about myself. My loves, passions, anger and shame. I’ve admitted I was wrong and I have apologized for it. I’ve celebrated my successes. I have welcomed you into my fold. I have poured out my words over coffee and tears on this screen or in conversation. I’ve lifted my shirt so you can see the scars. I have exposed my weaknesses and vulnerabilities. I’ve done it in private circles, with my nearest and dearest, and I’ve done it with complete and total strangers. I believe in being honest and forthright, especially when people are asking the questions. And before I used to do it openly without no abandon, with calculation or risk and without the false sense of safety that comes with blocks and filters.
And then I stopped.
Sure, I may trip or even fall along the way – but don’t we all? The pain sets in, you get up, brush the dirt off your wound and move on.
But something changed….
And it wasn’t me.
It took me a long time to get to this point and honestly, it has taken a lot longer than it should have gone on. I currently am rummaging in the pile of my own ashes only slowly emerging into a better version of myself. I am doing the work and I am not doing it alone because I see and acknowledge the pillars that have stuck around to help hold up my house, not the fair-weathered wood with termites on the insides and only looks pretty from one angle.
I have nothing to hide because who I am and where I have been is a line in the book I am writing, a book I will continue to write till I take my last breath. No one can keep that from me. NO ONE.
“I don’t want to become one of her blog entries”
You just did.
The house has miniature cityscapes of boxes in every corner. The walls are still bare. The bruises from all the bumps are slowly fading back to their pale states. It’s an interesting feeling to go from being in a constant marathon state of “Go! Go! Go!” that you almost don’t know what to do with yourself once you’ve reached the proverbial finish line.
It’s crazy how quick it happened really. Josh left and within two weeks we were able to secure the place we wanted, 1 week later the movers were loading it up and we were all in the car, cats in tow, saying our goodbyes to Sonoma County and headed home. Sounds like a breeze but man was it hard on me. My body has been giving me the finger for weeks.
When all the signs are pointing in the right direction and you’re getting pretty much everything you wanted, you can’t help but feel like fate is reaffirming your decision. San Diego wanted us home.
Having been gone for 4.5 years, she is still the same city but a lot has changed. The familiarity is there, the sense of direction comes back like riding a bike but things are just different. You see it with a whole different set of eyes, a higher sense of appreciation and gratitude. It’s somewhat inexplicable unless you’ve been in that place. You leave only to come back and fall in love all over again.
She was the place I grew up in, the place that has seen our highs and lows, the place where we met and got married, the place where she was born, the place where the roots run deep and it was time for us to really acknowledge that. I am grateful for the opportunity and possibilities. The many possibilities I know I did not appreciate and took for granted.
Never. Fucking. Again.
In any event, we found ourselves a cute little abode in an awesome neighborhood and slowly but surely we have opened the purple hardcover to yet another chapter of our lives. I am excited of the prospect of making new memories here with my family. Not to mention, getting to spend time with those who stood by us through the hardships and distances and welcomed us home with open arms. To creating new work in a space that just feels right.
All of it feels right. I can’t wait to share it with you.
I don’t know how to really begin this post. I guess you could say I am doing things a little differently because not only have my posts become farther and farther spread apart, I just don’t have it in me to go through a years worth of photos and posts to try and regurgitate content for the sake of a recap.
From what I do recall, 2015 was a lot of things…
A year where for the first time in a great while I experienced another round of depression that I was thankful to be able to get a grip on.
A year where I got to watch our daughter turn some corners I wasn’t ready to watch her turn but nonetheless, we plug on with our path as parents to help steer and guide her into a healthy life full of confidence and honesty.
A year where I moved forward with my artistic goals by leaps and bounds. I still have so much to learn but I am learning nonetheless. Slowly and steadily I work to accept my praises with grace and humility and my rejection with a smaller sense of devastation. It’s hard to take something so personal to you and put it out in the world to be met with criticism. Remember who you’re doing it for.
A year where I got to go back to Mexico on vacation. I got to rekindle, experience and reconnect with a vital part of my culture with my family by my side. I am incredibly grateful we were able to go.
A year where I have met some wonderful, incredible, talented, supportive people who I am fortunate enough to piece into my tribe. Some of the exchanges I have had over the past year have really helped broaden my horizons and pushed me into places I didn’t feel I had in me.
A year where I experienced and mourned the crushing loss of what I thought was meaningful friendship. I will never understand what I did or why I was cast aside, but one thing I do know: I cannot spend another year holding out hope for something that is headed toward burning out, a fire that was purposely extinguished. My heart and soul can’t take it anymore.
A year of so much good music, the never ending moments that I pair to a soundtrack that is my life.
A year of singing to 50’s music with Reza and driving Josh nuts with the things we enjoy and he eyerolls at.
A year where I am realizing there need to be changes to my parenting style and relationship with my daughter. Not because it’s bad, but because I know it has potential to go that way if I don’t learn to curb myself a little harder.
A year where I was sought out, believed in, loved and supported albeit through my creative endeavors, my words or my opinions. To those of you who were any of these things to me? Thank you, I noticed.
A year where I was confronted with the aging of my Parents, the inevitable progression of my Mother’s Alzheimers and heartache that comes with the preparation that one day she will no longer look at me with recognition.
A year where I chose to and will continue to embrace my truths. The good, the bad, the ugly…. and always working to recognize the latter and make the necessary changes in places that no longer serve or help me evolve.
A year I am ending on a note that involves so much emotional upheaval and change. Our lives come fill circle so very soon and I am very much looking forward to returning to our former home with a new set of eyes and renewed perspective.
And of course, yet another year filled with love and gratitude that I get to spend it with a person who sees, gets and makes me feel like the most loved person on Earth.
So yes, that is 2015. Not all of it is pretty but it is what it is. I am ready to see what the next year brings… one thing I do know, it’s going to be surrounded by wonderful settings, fantastic art, open arms, beautiful people I am so fortunate to know and it’s going to be on my fucking terms.
My birthday came and went last week and I normally make it a point to write a post to celebrate and muse about being one foot closer to the grave. I kid. I am far from “old” but man do I love to make jokes about it. In any event, I turned 41 last week and I didn’t write about it. Yes! 41! Sure, I may not feel like a spring chicken at times and things are sagging yo. Going the F South! But I don’t feel the need to omit my track record and how far I have managed to come. I own that shit for age is wisdom and I am not in the business of denying truths, especially mine. Life is far too short for bullshittery.
That said, the day was lovely and I did everything that was meant to happen on birthdays from lovely messages, a couple surprises in the form of BPAL and calla lilies, to wonderful food and epic sex. Cause no birthday is complete without a good banging. Amen for babysitting.
I am suffering from the most epic of hangovers though. No, I am not puking up my guts lamenting having a go around with Don Julio… this is a different kind of hangover. October was the craziest whirlwind. I made and sold art like a crazy person, I traveled, I saw, I felt things and it was so damn intense. It was like a comet that burned and burned and then it just fizzled. I thought I would come back from Mexico fully charged for another round at it and the complete opposite has happened. Some people thrive on the constant flow, I am not one of those people. I am still “not back” from the trip and paired with the change in climate and exterior of the world, I am finding myself in a place where I just want to hold on to what’s closest and hibernate. The cool thing about hibernation is that eventually the sleepy spell wears off and you crawl out of the cave with a fresh set of eyes. Big stretch. That time will come so I am not going to stress myself out over it. I have a habit of doing that shit.
I just hate the fact that my creative juice tapped the f out. I really need to fix that because when I am not being creative, I go stagnant. I feel dry and insipid. It reminds me of the time my Tita Carmen (grandmother) took me aside at the ripe age of 15 and told me that “if you don’t use the hole it’s going to rust”. Mi Tita had no idea how true that sentiment is and just how well it applies to other “holes”, not just the ones meant for good times. Now you know where my filthy, inappropriate-at-times mouth came from. That shit is completely genetic. High five Grandma.
Carley house continues to shift and I go with it. From shifts and things I’m not ready to talk about, to Reza growing up far too fast for our own good. I cannot even begin to tell you the stories that come with the latter, cause damn son, this child needs to slow the hell down. STORIES. The beauty is that despite that growth, Josh, Reza and I grow together at a fairly similar pace, a Kentucky Derby photo finish. They are by far the best gift I could have ever asked for… no amount of birthdays and x-mases (x-masses?) combined could ever sum up to a fragment of how happy they make me.
So yes, 41 came and will soon be went… I have lots of plans for 41 but I am going to focus on more “doing” than talking about it. Practice and far less preach. There’s way too much of that these days and the last thing I need to be is one of “those” people. No bueno.
I try and take one photo on the day of and all I could muster was this phone selfie.
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