cinnamon + honey in coffee
walking to the car in the rain after a solid workout
when we jinx by saying the same thing at the same time
sunlit cat naps on the couch with gomez
the updated fridge gallery and getting to gaze at the beauty in my life – daily.
acknowledging one another’s rarity
that post gym muscle ache
bare toes, warm concrete
pulling over to take photos of a dual colored blooming tree
moments where that peace + clarity arrive
a perfectly balanced slice of key lime pie
when r’s taste in music mirrors my influence
a bag of a new roast of beans
looming desert adventures
Spring arrived. Does it feel like it? Yes. Does it look like it? No. 12 atmospheric rivers (and counting) and while I love rain, I don’t want it for months at a time. I am all for the green and wildflower blooms but the dark and crispy skies weigh. So much for that “sunshine tax”. Regardless, the sunshine is inside these days – I find it in those little pleasures, serious self care, my family, a new scent on my skin, new songs – shit, even the old ones that take on new meaning, R’s laughter behind the closed bedroom door, His sense of wonder, the self worth I see, exude and won’t apologize for anymore… even if I have to break my own heart sometimes.
The 3rd anniversary of covid lockdown came and went – and if it wasn’t for that and the impact it created for very different reasons, none of us would be where we are in this moment. It’s a mind fuck. Lockdown forced me to look at myself, sit with myself. When you’re walking around with a gaping wound and heart hanging out of your chest, there is potential for so much disaster. This cataclysmic event forcibly kept me from what could have been some serious mistakes. I learned, grew and expanded. It gifted me some really beautifully life altering connections and experiences that I know in my core, would never have happened unless… Would I take it back if I could? I think I already know that answer.
Recently someone special to me turned the corner of another completion around the Sun and it sparked dialog about age and growing older. Maybe it’s the inner peace I have found in recent years, the grips with my own age and seeing how life can be so fleeting in the process, but I have really taken on a new perspective with the whole idea of age. When society does nothing but want to fight the process by trying to preserve youth – and condemns maturity with disposability, I can’t help but want to treat the process with a little bit more respect. I have literally been on death’s door more than once and the fact I am still here isn’t lost on me. I’m fortunate to have made it this far. This is a privilege. I see the women in my life approach their own journeys with reverence, agency and wisdom, and we share in it unapologetically. This doesn’t mean I am ready to surrender to the grey just yet but being where and who I am, in this moment, isn’t such a bad place to be all things considering.
It never ceases to amaze me that even at this point in my life, there are still so many firsts I have yet to experience. And yet somehow, little by little, those “firsts” are claimed or given away. How He manages to consistently check those boxes off without as much as an ask speaks volumes. I guess this is what happens when you commune with devils instead of mortals. They’re Yours.
Some of the greatest medicine comes in the form of having something to look forward to. I just happen to have many doses. Getting visits from some of my best friends I haven’t seen in forever? Taking my baby to see The Cure? The plotting of the Next Great Adventure? Yes. Please.
Warmth, reunion and emergence are on the horizon.
scent: BPAL/The Manuscript: leather + paper and splotches of ink, with a hint of ghostly chill.
a morning dance party in the kitchen to my Summer playlist while feeding the cats.
sharing my food with Judas
sound: the rain, howling wind and our secret playlist
an A+ dumpster dive in the form of devil’s ivy cuttings that I immediately brought home.
I’m just going to pretend it’s not 50 degrees, wet and grey. Seems like March will be no different.
the way he says “I love you, bean”
feline loaf on my desk
Japanese curry night
art in the shadows
the simultaneous sunshine and hail
the fortune of capturing the romance between Jupiter and Venus in a sunset landscape, post storm. 400 million miles apart, but appearing like lovers at arms length, close enough to almost kiss, only to part ways once more. so far away, but undeniably close. this resonates.
I know it’s the official/unofficial date…. Happy Birthday, Mom.
I always remember, even when you can’t anymore. xo
The season for all the bunny shaped things and the crack cocaine Cadbury mini eggs
Azure ink stained fingertips on Valentine’s Day
Morning bed climb-ins cause it’s COLD (CA cold, you shut up)
The perfect combination of black forest + brie + dijon on grilled loaf.
The sense of accomplishment when you get your own taxes done.
When the bartender comps *all* the beverages
The explosion of freeway blooms from all the rain we’ve had. It’s so refreshing to see a lot more green in the horizon.
Having to part ways when that person has decided they want to fuel their heart with hatred and misinformation. Upsetting and disheartening but I don’t have space for people who want to be gross.
My fridge photo gallery – the faces of my people give me so much joy. (Note to self: print and add more)
Couch cuddles with the wolves
The way R calls me “a fuckin’ G”
The moment when you realize you’re more of a rest stop instead of a destination.
The unbelievable, affectionate growth in my familiars as they age.
Roadside graffiti wisdom.
When the people in your life grow and evolve with you instead of away.
Delicious brunch + a very overdue dishing session with the ladies. Why is hollandaise so fucking magical? Paired with the tea? Even better.
Getting gushed over my way with words and ability to compliment by delicious poets.
How the squad rallies the way ants build a bridge to get everyone across
The undeniable glow and power in a woman that chooses herself.
Daylight Savings and Spring are right around the corner. I am SO ready for warmer weather & open windows.
When the long overdue karma train arrives.
Daydreaming of His kisses on cathedral stone.
intuition that is met with validation you were on the mark
immediate reassurance that you didn’t even have to ask for – but needed
the room + linens smelling of lavender
a scent or song taking you back to wonderful memories
the struggle when you have to say no but old you wants to say yes
the simple satisfaction of peeling an orange in one continuous piece
the cat nap including and actual cat right next to you
an image of your spontaneous eye hemorrhage inspiring someone to create art
the way cotton candy dissolves on your tongue
the greeting of a mass murder of crows flocking the Disneyland gates as we arrived
a sleeping familiar on my desk as I work
two of us crammed into one hoodie to try and stay warm
sharing a slice from a freshly purchased loaf of bread with parking lot bird friends
the persistence of the “fuck more!” tagger in our area – they make me smile
our great “shoe and bra eviction ritual” the second we get in the car after a Disney Day
having a matcha latte in bed on a cold morning
eating with your bare hands like a total savage and not giving a fuck
how the group chat is trying to share at least one good thing, every day
keeping myself far from cynicism
sharing similar taste in music with R and singing it on the freeway together
trees blooming with flowers like it’s spring in the middle of winter
promises of saved kisses
words that feel like a hand on your thigh under the table when no one is looking
“…A particular part of this song mirrors the sensation that you inflict…
Angel by Massive Attack”
some things just need to be canonized for posterity’s sake.
Traveled: Mazatlan, Las Vegas, Barcelona (fuck, just getting to travel again is a gift within itself)
Saw Live: Amenra, Billie Eilish, My Chemical Romance, Youth Code
Bucket list ✔️: First trip to Europe/Barcelona, Museo Dalí Figueres, The Lion King Broadway production
Trip to Disneyland for Reza’s first Bat’s Day on Mother’s Day
Monet Live art installation
Sharing Art Alive with M. and watching him check off some really big things.
Long overdue reunions with Bee and Carolin who I hadn’t seen in years.
Overdue time with friends.
My new passport getting a glorious pair of stamps
Visits and eats with my birthday twin.
Crying with Reza at the MCR show.
Catching COVID after 2.5 years of evasion (10/10 don’t recommend)
Mazatlan with my Sisters
Got a new tattoo
That even at this point in my life, I still get to feel and experience beautiful “first time evers”
The unspoken language of flowers and intimate poetry
Watching and helping Ginny move to her new, out of state chapter
Kept most of my plants alive!
Every moment of the Barcelona travel magic we had. Story and trip of a lifetime.
Stolen breaths behind and on a gothic cathedral wall
So many wonderful sunsets
Reza turned 16, Lucifer 1, Gomez & Judas 11, me? 48. Damn.
Watching my people get their due slice of happy.
My 22′ Release Favs (in no order):
The Weeknd “Dawn FM”
L.S. Dunes “Past Lives”
Night Sins “Violet Age”
Crosses ††† “Permanent Radiant”
Holy Fawn “Dimensional Bleed”
My Chemical Romance “The Foundations of Decay” (a single that I played into oblivion)
Author & Punisher “Krüller”
The 1975 “Being Funny In A Foreign Language”
And honestly? Discovering older things I hadn’t given a chance
The highlights were fucking brilliant… especially after the absolute shit shows that 20/21 were. Gotta love the abject stupidity of a pandemic to put so many things to a halt. They weren’t all bad and brought so many eye opening perspectives and life changing connections. But 22′, what can I say? She was a semblance of a little bit of normalcy, whatever it is we call “normal” these days. Regardless of which, this year was a squinty eyed emergence on the horizon and a bit of fresher air after being stuck in an airlock.
She was risk and reward, lessons of trust, faith and surrender. She was a limit testing, breath stealing, emotionally challenging, heart swelling, tear inducing, blood racing, blasphemously delicious blur. I’m so grateful I got to see and feel so much of it and that a lot of those moments were shared. I cried a hell of a lot – sometimes from sadness, happiness, joy, pleasure. Sometimes all of the above. And sometimes it was from the jagged edges of disappointment.
On the morning of New Year’s Day 2023 I opened my list of hopes and intentions I wrote the year before. It has become one of my New Year rituals. I was pleasantly surprised to see that a handful of those things came to fruition. They were things I worked and sought to make reality and boy, did they come true in beautiful ways. On the other hand there were things I didn’t even come close to touching and perhaps that is where I am being called to focus this year. I keep coming back to words like: more. abundance. desire. manifest. ease. gentle. And perhaps that is how I will approach the year to come, with unapologetic truth and the mouth to match.
The happy accident of an out of focus sunset photo.
The echoing of Their laughter in the house.
Hearing what I needed to hear exactly from the person I needed to hear it from.
Being sneaky sneaky even though I am terribly impatient.
The power in being thanked or told you’re missed.
Men that GET IT.
Xmas cheer in the form of cards and small prizes sent to far away places.
The gift of a clean slate to start the year on.
The possibility of new beginnings on a lot of levels.
How a month has passed and it feels like so long ago, yet I can still taste it.
The exorbitant amount of care I have been receiving as of late.
The optimism and hope for new adventures.
Judas sleeping in her new gingerbread house cat scratcher under the xmas tree.
The way He encourages me to create art with his living, breathing inspiration.
The itch of a new and long overdue tattoo.
The anticipation of snail mail arriving.
When the words and behavior align.
Being called “thoughtful” from multiple sources.
Reconnecting with old friends and falling into them like time didn’t pass.
Handwritten letters from my Mom I forgot I had.
Beans + toast banter.
Audio message exchanges.
The comedy in how they just can’t help themselves.
Living on my terms, and by “terms” I mean having ice cream for dinner if I want to.
The journey through the 5 senses embedded under my skin.
When the stress levels drop. Finally.
The hunger for dangerously uninhibited, vulnerable exchanges.
Bonding with friends over our mutual hatred of raisins.
Being fed the proof.
The longing for Spring. Yes. Already.
The plotting of new year manifestations.
Getting my hands literally and metaphorically dirty… with ink, potting soil and you.
When *home* is more than the place I sleep at night.
I have spent a large portion of years nurturing everything but myself that one day I decided it was time to really start flipping that narrative. After meticulous planning and conspiring, the time came to give to myself. Time to start making dreams reality, to warm my own hearth. And so I did. On the morning of my 48th birthday I woke up in an abyss of crispy white linens, across the street from a gothic cathedral in Barcelona.
Spain was a dream come true on more levels than I even hoped for. You ever go somewhere completely new and the second you’re there it just feels like home? That is exactly what it felt like. There aren’t enough words or photos that will ever summarize the impression that was left on me. Start to finish it gave me beautiful weather, incredible nourishment, a concrete labyrinth of beauty and art that I lost myself in, endlessly and willingly. And in her, I found even more pieces of myself that I thought were lost. When you have nothing to do but exist, wander and take in, I had a lot of time to think. I didn’t realize just how much I was willing to accept crumbs until a banquet was laid out in front of me… and not only did I make that happen, but I allowed myself to trust in its process and myself a little more. And for me, that is an enormous but uncomfortable revelation. I needed this Catalonian love affair far more than I could ever have imagined. It was perfection.
It has been a week since I returned and I am still trying to wrap my head and heart around it even happening. I was ready for it, but what I didn’t expect was just how deep it would sink into me. When you finally make something happen, a lifelong daydream turn reality, and then for it to come together so seamlessly, you can’t help but wonder its veracity. Even when you have the carnage, bruises and longing embedded deep in you as evidence. I will forever twist my own flesh into believing it even happened.
For a brief moment I got an exquisite taste of life, thriving, passion and my own capacity. I (and others) saw a depth in my eyes that hadn’t been seen in quite some time. I can’t even think or talk about it without weeping… not sure if it’s the post travel blues? Joy or happiness incarnate? Fulfillment and cup filling after being in a state of deprivation? I walked myself into something special, something so beautiful that I knew would change me even while knowing of the possibility it would split me in two, and boy did it. A voluntary walk into the fire that while transformative, also burned. It aches. Deliciously.
One thing I do know: this birthday was the most perfect Spanish autumn, a series of firsts and bucket list checkmarks, an adventure of a lifetime that I will soon not shut the fuck up about. Best. Birthday. Ever.
And now all I can think about is “what is next?”, because there will be a next…
Mark my words.