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So here you are. You picked up and you moved. Finally. You finally moved- (Good job.)
Something you’ve been talking about for a thank-goodness-noone’s-counting long of time. Three years? Four? Enough time for change to brew to the point of the bubble over. So you ride out in the cascade, thinking of the times where you were so detached from holds and your spirit was far freer, though before you left, feeling tied-down you did not. You just felt… cozy. Comfy. Copacetic. And it’s those C words that can be dangerous.
Because that’s no place to stand.
So you took off in the name of new C words, like new conquests. Like crazy. Like can’t stop won’t stop. And it can all just be so fun. If only you let it. And if only you can conceive of it. Or perhaps just let. it. go.
So you done gave it all up. The pretty house. The fun & loving social circle. The sweet man. The main income sources. In the name of…?
And you’re not quite sure, when people ask you this every-day-question, of quite how to respond to it. The answer varying, dependent on mood, on weather, on wind velocity, or based upon the most recent strangers’ interaction. All in all it is hardly surmisable.
It is the untouchable. And it takes focus to remember that not all is to come with a black and white outline. And it is to show that sometimes you gotta pull that thread from the old sweater. Perhaps those tired sleeves’ll fall off. Or it’ll just keep going until your left with a new ball of yarn. And you can be kind and donate it to the kitten company, bringing them a smile to wiggle their whiskers. Or you can go yarn-bomb the town.
And that’s California, man. The land of possibility.
The golden state, for it’s expanse, and so-many-subcultures, museums & eateries, everywhere art & art galleries & feral or lawful graffiti, mania, excitement; native pride & alcatraz take over; animal parades & freaky carnivals, pop-up-shows, seedy establishments, fresh-fortune cookies, raw struggle & swollen riches, lawlessness, confusion, and contagion, and on on on.
And ocean.
And green; for dripping night-blooming-datura plants; massive, shedding, fragrant eucalyptus, girthy taproot, secure base; established, luscious thick, envious jades; swishy, flirting-with-blocking-the-moon-palms; nooks and crannies: a dream for sleepy monkeys if only one would escape it’s captivity, or the ideal habitat for weary squatter and mangey pooch.
And brown; for trash upon trash in the city parks, don’t-drop-your-keys-in-the-gutter-because-how-dirty-streets; filthy, creepy alleyways where you must pretend not to have a smart phone or sucker you might be; curbside furniture left for days, covered in soot; mysterious weaves on the ground; white bums with black hands.
You might not have realized how grimy it could be. And how distracting, to boot.
But that’s ok- it’s your renaissance.
On your time. And you made it.
You are in charge of celebrations.

Viva su revolucion!

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Can I ask you some questions? Would you be so kind as to take a moment to reflect for me? It’s about you. It’s for me… well, for now. But I have ideas OF COURSE. So if you prefer, you can answer anonymously. You can even have my personal email: thelighteningcan@gmail.com and I will respect your privacy when I reiterate. Though, I don’t think you’ll be feeling too exposed when you get right down to it.
I want to know 3 things.

  1. What makes you unique?
  2. What makes you special?
  3. What makes you fortunate?

I have answered these questions with my own brain to provide a template of depth I hope to find, verses some topical answer. Answer in one part, two parts, three parts… whatever. Get loose with it!

Baby L (me)

  1. What makes you unique?

a. Often- I’ll see people that seemed deeply embroiled in a heavy make out session, all intertwined and public. Then upon further inspection it turns out that it is in fact just one, solitary obese person.
b. A new vocabulary word that I have never used before will be on the tip of my brain upon wake, awaiting its debut in my conversations perhaps.
c. I dream about water bodies in some capacity every night.

  1. What makes you special?

I care deeply for justice and work towards it in some way almost every day. I have wired my life around it.

  1. What makes you fortunate?

a. I am fortunate because I have creative, tireless brain that when on the right trajectory has the capacity to produce beeeaaauuuty! And crazy drive. I am constantly getting new, cool ideas for art on a larger scale. I’ve always been dipped in some form of self-expression.
b. Also, I have parents that have been supportive of my zany ways that differ so strongly from their approach at life. We love each other.
c. I have a beautiful house and beautiful friends.
d. I’ve been granted with an overall positive disposition.
e. I consider myself pretty self-aware and am always striving to be my best self.
f. I got rhythm for days and I ain’t afraid of no dancefloor!

So there it is. Spice it up/ break it down. I’m listening. Sock it to me (((please!!)))!

play this

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One of my very favorite things is when Im on a walk (usually with my sweet little doggy), and we pass someone singing and practicing piano. !! It just fills me up, buttercup. When the rest of the world doesn’t exist, momentarily, and the thought is that no one is around, and you hear some one being free. It’s just about the purest thing…

And how people get petals stuck in their hair and falling all over their heads in the Spring.

And when Im in the city and I have a sweet exchange with a stranger, or even just share a moment, be it funny or sincere.

And even when the wind blows just right at the very right time on that perfect day and it feels like my cells just stretched out and took a deep breath in unison. That right place right time ish.

So I am reclaiming romantic. It abounds and is not limited to two people’s feelings/ actions/ expressions. Romance happens between us and the world. It is what makes us shiver (in a good way) on the inside. It’s our private collection of sweet things too small to tell, just as they are our anchors to faith.

Riding my bike is a sure fire way to light the spark. There are so many incredible Oo-ah moments that feed my soul, like yesterday, crossing the tracks in the SE industrial area of Portland, this regular looking dude was walking in a more desolate area along the tracks just playing a trumpet.

~sigh~ Super inspiring, just getting alone time where no one’s around, on an ultra hot day. My phone sadly doesn’t do justice to how sweet this moment was, or how barren the area was either. Betta than nothin’. Today I made a pledge, so to speak, to myself and promised to be a better photo-documentarian. Taking pictures of inspiration and secret moments revealed.

Oh, and also to never miss a good photo op even if the camera is kind of sucky sucky.

Along that same bike ride I spotted this older, transient guy on account of his pink sequins pants. Yes I did. Soo I turned around and had to had to just had to get a shot. Luckily he was down. He was missing a pinky, therefore now going by the name of Pinky. Lost to too much fun or something like that. We talked a little but then the cops came and told us not to encourage him. Jeez. Boring.

He wanted some company for the shot – naturally (!) and so Chaach (left) got up in there with him (and my sexy bike (R)). Putting his Pinkys out for the pic was his idea. Cute. Yes, he was a bit loopy but I tell you that man has fun.

I am wined and dined by these things that I mention. It’s these things that keep me in love.

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