Curiosity and being in the sun.

"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." Einstein.
This quote that means a lot. I stopped questioning and my curiosity went to sleep. Without that, I stopped going down a random road or seeing what was over the next hill. One gets so focused on survival one loses the luxury of dreaming and being curious. Ones priorities shift and its a day to day events that grab the focus. Its not the inability to balance its the lack of time left to permit oneself to dream. The dreams get so lost one forgets they ever had them. Whimsical, the childlike wonder, the laughing all get lost. 

I have a friend that did not lose their whimsy, dreams, and looks at the world with wonder filled eyes. When I'm around this person all I want to do is smile and laugh, even during a disagreement. This person is down right now and all I want to be is silly, ridiculous, funny, anything to bring the smile back into this persons voice. It is not that I disrespect what they are going through its more like I want to bring the sunshine back to this persons cloudy day.

A time comes when you find those dreams again, you reach for the whimsical, you look once again at the world in childlike wonder and you laugh, laugh laugh.

Thankfull

Another Thanksgiving has past, much goes through my mind on that day and many things that I am grateful for. I thought that having a small thanksgiving would be lonely and sad. It couldn't be further from the truth. With the absence of a large amount of family, thanksgiving was as peaceful as I have ever had. No tension, no fighting, no knots in my stomach just a day of cooking and vegging.
There are many things that I have to be grateful for, my daughter, my mom, my dog,food on my table, that has been iffy a few times this year. My friends, several in mind, one in particular. Without those friends this year would have been a lot less bearable. My health while not 100%, it seems to be in a holding pattern, for which I'm grateful. I have a roof over my head, insurance, a vehicle. The pieces of my once shattered life are comeing back together and I'm stronger for it. I am thankful for the troops who stand in another country and serve our country. I am grateful for the beautiful blue sky, and the magnificent mountains here on Colorado. I am grateful to be alive and living life.

another hockey diatribe

So, I was in Detroit for a few days.. nice place full of Red Wings Fans, you know that team thats all red with a funny wing and wheel on their jerseys? I and my friend went to a game where my team, the fabulous Avalanche were playing the Red Wings. I was at their arena and everywhere I looked was Red. It was a little unnerving. A few were representing as was I, and as much as I hate to say it, kills me to say it the Wings are a damn good hockey club. Granted I think they are yellow bellied dog weasles for having Bertuzi or however you spell that fucks name, but damn they can play a hockey game. Just freaken kills me to say it. I walked away with a grudgeing respect for the club. Granted I'll never ever wear the red jersey and I will never ever cheer them on against my team or the Predators, but I hope they go after the slimy gits Canucks with all the power and fury they are known to have.

Adventures!

I have this friend! She's funny, smart, driven, and I'm so happy that she is back in my life.
I got to thinking about her today and I remembered one of our adventures.*Grin*


We were living together in Colorado. I was in one of my moods and feeling like seeing what was down the road. It was the butt crack of dawn for her, so I made coffee and went into her room and woke her up. " Get up sunshine, ROAD TRIP!!!" and I shoved the coffee under her nose. How I managed to not get slugged by her I'll never know because I know I had done this to her several times in the past. Anyway..... she cursed me I'm sure but being the absolutely fantastic friend that she is, she pulled her ass out of bed threw on some clothes and we got into the La Bamba ( land yacht) and headed north northeast on I 76. I had decided since none of us had been to Nebraska, that day would be the day to pop our "never been to hayseed land" cherries. Smoking a big fat joint helped a lot too. So we drove and drove, ( its freaken endless and flat out that way) and got rippin baked so as to end the flat land tedium.  


After what seemed like hours, ( hour and half)  we crossed the state line and pulled into a gas station.  We were all feeling pretty good and it was decided that a little humour was in order. Going inside we walked up to the counter, (I'm sure we reeked of weed)  and we asked the guy standing there where Colorado was. Remind you, we were right over the state line in a car with Colorado plates. The guy looked at us as if we had lost our minds and then proceeded to explain that it was right at the next exit. I believe that is when we informed him that we must have missed the whole state. Laughing our heads off cause we thought we were so funny we bought munchie food and left the bewildered gas station attendant and headed further into Nebraska.


I don't remember much more about the day except that I shot several rolls of film ( where those pictures are I have no idea) and at the end of this random road we followed we found an odd valley and a "Little House on the Prairie" church. It seemed weird this old church out in the middle of no where. Could be that I imagined the church I was pretty stoned. All and all an excellent adventure.


I am looking forward to having more adventures with her when I head up to see her this spring. Hoo ya!!

Seven Minutes to Burn

What can you do in seven minutes? Light, smoke and extinguish a cigarette. Share a passionate kiss. Bolt down a cheeseburger. Knock back a beer. Take 3 rolls of film. Listen to part of inagottadavida before going nucking futs. You can watch part of a hockey game, if its Canucks v Avalanche there will be a fight. Listen to your favourite song twice. Make top raman. Take a shower. Day dream. Drive to the store. Sit through previews. Watch commericals, as they are longer than the actual shows. Make Coffee. Watch for the 7th wave. Lay on a rock and ponder the clouds. Listen to someone laugh. Pet your dog. Watch it snow. Listen to the rain on the roof. Snuggle a friend. Share comfortable silence. Laugh. Text message a friend. Get a sunburn. Swim 4 laps. Skate in a hockey game for 7 one minute streches. Find cool beats and a kicken bass line and roll with it. Watch a wild swan fly. Call your best friend just to say goodnight. Write this list. Make fast passionate love. Smile. Dream.

Ponderings

I cannot get motivated today, a lot on my mind equals nothing on my mind. Strange place to be. I've been on holiday for 10 days at a friends house. There is no pressure and its a peaceful creative environment. How can one not be inspired to write and create when surrounded by guitars, drums, art, music, plants and my friend, who is a genuine artist. Being around my friend, revives not only the creative in me, but me as a whole person. Something stifled for way too long. ( no wonder I've been a depressed grump)

My friend is one of the good ones. Challenges me to actually think. Doesn't pull punches when I'm wallering in self pity, being morose, or just going through motions. I have very few friends like that. They are important to me. Another one that just doesn't pull any punches, never did, I just reconnected with after a decade apart.

People are put in your path for a reason some are taken out to be put back in later, some are just placed there and the reason at the moment is cloudy. Then a moment of clarity hits and you're like, "oh yeah duh" Well at least I go, " oh yeah duh." Then again there are times I'm slow to catch on to this whole universal connectedness's even though subconsciously that is the philosophy I subscribe to. I'm turning back into my peaceful, head slightly in the clouds, carefree, conscientious, passionate, sexy, whats over the next hill self.

I told my friend that I did not have an agenda that is not entirely true. I do have one, however it is a personal one that does not particularly involve another. I am just meandering down the road seeing what was over the next rise and that my friend is totally welcomed to join or not. It may seem flaky but there was a time when I only sweated the big stuff, the real stuff, and not for too long because the universe provided and I could take my camera out and see, not look but see. In that I was communicating and all was right with the world. Time to find my way back to that, time to stop digging my heels in and buy a bloody digital camera. Ha ha

Heading home is going to be a challenge of sorts as with time for just myself here on holiday I've done an immense amount of thinking. This is no longer the healing year but the beginning of the growing year. Time to no longer hide. Time to take out that nugget of fear and examine it. Turn it over and over see what it is and expose it for what it truly is, nothing but fear. Time to find my roots grounded in the creative and my spirituality divined in my youth.

The whole thing is really cool!

How liberating is that when you can simply speak what is on your mind, without fear or prejudice? To converse as two sane adults is something that people seem to take for granted as in that many do not converse much less in a sane manner. Passion clouds the mind. Passion of fear, love, like, rejection, doubt, hesitation, that little voice inside you that sabotages. When we speak without fear, there is clarity, understanding, sure footing, a sense of direction, and placement upon a path. It is a starting point of sorts, a beginning, a conclusion, a sense of peace from the absence of trepidation. Apprehension clears, understanding begins. There is a sense of well being when one knows exactly where one stands there is no room for the mind to “make stuff up” to fill in the gaps formed by the inability to communicate.

The joy of conversation comes in many forms but it’s the personal ones which flow and click. When the mine fields are removed and one goes forward with confidence those are the best conversations to have. While the ones solving the worlds problems are stimulating, the ones solving where ones placement is in relation to another is the most productive.

Essentially the whole experience is really cool!!!

Moments

Do I want time to slow down, speed up, or freeze a moment?

I just finished reading Einstein’s Dreams. This is the third copy of the book I initially bought in a book store in Bellingham, Washington in 1994. Reading it always makes me think.

Yes, there are times when I want time to slow dow when something in the future is going to happen and it seems that time is rushing towards it at a much faster pace. It is merely perception but none the less time seems to move faster. Then there are moments that I would like to freeze, a laugh, a touch, a smile, the crash of the waves on the shore.

Those moments are perfect in that, a perfect moment. However one can not stop the moment and ponder upon it one can only savor it and move to the next and remember fondly that moment they wished they could freeze.
Today was perfect moments with a friend. A smile, a conversation, a laugh, seeing his world through his eyes, it was a good day.

         A lyric comes to mind, “lend me your eyes and I’ll teach you to see.” Maybe I had just fallen asleep for a while and forgot to see. I am waking up I can feel it, I know it. A long stretch as my mind clears the slumber and my eyes focus, time to see, time to think, time for me.

Keg on a saturday night

There is a difference between men and boys. Boys, in my definition are someone under 30. They may be brilliant, at the top of their game, a mover, shaker, but with the rare exception for the most part there is a glaring difference in their appreciation for and how they treat women. In that respect they simply are not men, still boys eager to be with a woman and with that eagerness comes a lack of finesse.  A Man that appreciates a woman is totally different from a boy that really likes girls.  Men slow it down knowing they are going to get theirs. Boys rush through it and in the back of their mind lingers the thought they might not get theirs. They lack the finesse of touch, the moment and the feeling a simple caress creates. The shivers a delicate slow paced kiss incites.  A man that appreciates a woman takes time to find out what makes a woman tick, move, react, and respond. Not just physically but emotional and mentally.  A boy rushes in like a frat boy at a keg on a Saturday night.

For all you dating the 30 and under male, do not despair they can be taught communication is key. Learning about yourself first is important; understanding what makes your own self tick can go a long way in teaching your partner how to make you tick. If you don’t say something you’re going to constantly end up being the preverbal keg on a Saturday night.

Observations on Travel

DIA is a lovely airport; it looks like a bunch of very large circus tents clustered together, built out on the plains just east of Denver. The idea was that its architectural form and shape was to emulate the snow capped Rocky Mountains. Still looks like circus tents to me. From my house barring traffic, it takes about 40 minutes to get there. The drive to the airport was uneventful in spite of the over passes having ice, there were no accidents or heavy traffic so I arrived much earlier than planned and saying goodbye to mom, I stood inline to check in curbside. Note to self, luggage that rolls is much nicer than an oversized duffle bag. No more duffle bag.

Once checked it, it’s the long stroll, through the upper part, to get down to security. As I’m not traveling on a weekend the lines were not painfully long. Just the typical, hurry up and get there only to slow down and strip down in security. Oh how I miss the days of being able to show up at the airport, with 10 minutes to make your flight. Today, things have tightened up even more. While there are not soldiers with machine guns, like what happened right after 9/11, Security is still tight only in different ways.  First there is the long line just to get up to the first TSA agent. There each person’s identification was scrutinized against their boarding pass. If all seems right a little stamp was put on the pass and you’re allowed to proceed.  That’s when I have to practically strip down, pull out my lap top, put that, my backpack, coat and boots into a bin, where they can go through x-ray and I get to walk through security. No beep always a good sign and its time to put myself back together. Benches are thoughtfully provided as a place to sit down and put your shoes back on and your things back where they belong, then it’s off to the gate.

My gate was all the way at the end of the east side of concourse C. There were big sunny windows where I sat and waited, people watching as I listened to my IPod. There was one lovely woman that had an amazing smile, you couldn’t help but light up when she would flash it. Just one of those people that you felt good being around, at least superficially considering that it was only a moment in time at an airport. The person sitting next to me on the plane was in her final year of college down in LA, sociology major. She and her boyfriend were traveling back to Ohio to meet his family before he ships off to Afghanistan for 6 months. I could see and hear the worry in her voice as she tried to pass it off as just a thing.

I saw a great lake from the air, being geography major you would think I would remember which lake is the furthest west. Well I don’t so I sat amazed as I passed over this large body of water that seemed to stretch endlessly to the north. The landscape below me was flat, with the patchwork pattern of farmlands, a few wind farms, and the vastness punctuated by rivers, and cities clustered around interstates, and major roads.

Landing, again comfortably uneventful, I waited to deplane, everyone following the unannounced yet seemingly part of our lexicon in how to deplane. Lessons learned in kindergarten actually remembered.  Each was polite, helped one other with their overhead baggage and waited patiently for their turn to get out of their seat, gives one hope for humanity. Then again it could be that everyone was in a good mood as the flight attendant sang while we were landing and taxing to the gate, which brought enthusiastic applause from the passengers.

 I headed towards baggage, and coming down the stairs I saw my friend, and all I could do was smile, whatever nerves I had, poof gone, it was my friend smiling waiting for me.

We drove from the airport and the first thing I noticed was that it was flat, mostly. There were some rises, but for the most part, flat. The second thing I noticed is that it reminded me of parts of Tennessee.

This is an interesting place Michigan; I can see the connection between Tennessee and here. The landscape is a lot of alike, the trees the feeling is the same. All that is really missing is the heavy southern accent and the smell of fried food in the air. The real connection is that a lot of people moved up from the south to work in the auto industry here during its boom time, and when they retired they would move back to Tennessee or Kentucky. They were Yankees by accent, yet southern by birth.

Where I am, you cannot feel the despair or see that the economy in this region is in dire straights, as I am in the suburbs. As most suburbs goes, this one do not seem to be particularly cookie cutter. It does not remind me of Thousand Oaks transplanted in a hundred different places, namely Cool Springs, TN. It seems to have is own rhythm and pattern, and the streets are laid out kind of different. I have only seen one chain restaurant so far and surprisingly enough it was not a fast food place.

There is definitely a different culture here than say, Colorado, the west coast and most definitely not the south. There is a slight accent to the voices, but not so smothering as a southern one. This is definitely the land of Red Wings. As I was passing a shop in the airport I paled slightly seeing all the Red Wing gear prominently displayed, unlike Colorado where, it’s the football team colors and logos displayed proudly, proclaiming it to be Bronco country. There is even a very large statue, of a blue stallion with red eyes that greets visitors to the Rocky Mountain state as they leave the airport. I found much to my relief there was no large menacing statue of a Red Wing player brandishing his stick welcoming all to Detroit.

Friends

The one thing that is constant in life is having friends. I have several close ones although they are far away.
The most painful lesson I have learned, is not forgiving when you've had a fight with one.

Bob, I met him when I was 18 and small town girl getting chewed up and spit out by the big city. He befriended me, and basically saved my ass, driving me all the way back home to Oregon from San Diego, as I was floundering, barely able to survive. We stayed in touch, and stayed close friends. Through out the years, we were there for each other, through thick and thin. I would not have made it through college if it had not been for Bob. He would always make sure I had groceries, or money for groceries, when he would come through.
I rode on the back of his Harley to my college graduation. He was the best man at my wedding. There was not a single important part of my life that I do not remember Bob being a part of, at the very least he was there on the phone. He was my touchstone. In 2001 we had a terrible argument, over what I don't even remember now, but we were both going through upheaval and changes in our lives. I was ending a marriage and he was starting a relationship. I left the state, always meaning to call him and make up. My mom and Steph saw him and they talked, and I phoned finally only to reach a disconnect number and my Christmas card returned forwarding address unknown. After so many years we had drifted apart, with harsh angry words being the last things said between us.

Bob was killed August 11, 2005 in La Mesa California. I have no idea how he died, under what circumstance, all I can find is a Social Security Death Index. I imagine i hope that it was quick, on his Harley doing what he loved to do, Ride. I cannot imagine the world without him but the world is with out him.

Treasure those friends that have been with you for so long, even if you've drifted apart, find your way back. These people played an intrinsic part in who you are as a person. To know your friends is to know their flaws and a true friend, accepts even embraces those flaws.  No lesson is harder learned than the one where you don't get to say sorry.

To all my friends out there, I love you, thank you for being who you are.