Destination Self: The stuff of fantasies

It’s nearly 4am on Monday morning and my brain is going a 1000 miles an hour.  This month… this year… everything has become such a wonderful blur of busy that…

Six months ago, I didn’t know what was going to happen to me.  Now, I’m happening to me.

I have been fighting a long time to garner success.  Los Angeles is a city where dreams are made and often broken.

Not many people know this, but I have been battling with a lot.  For an “oversharer” I don’t share quite a bit more.  It’s difficult being in a spot where people are watching you.

I was on a bus in Chicago last weekend and I saw a bum babbling about.  It made think even more about the paths that I’ve gone. About how far I’d come from being a little girl in pigtails living in suburbia Illinois.

“This guy is sitting here instead of a mental health facility because no one cares.  Is it better for someone to care or is it better that people don’t?”

Something I’ve struggled with for a long time is this.

The change my grandfather gave me has taken another form.

I’d said at the beginning of the year that this is the time where I finally get everything I’ve dreamed of.  And here it is February and it’s happening.

• I have a great job with a technology company that was rated one of the 10 best places to work in. There’s enormous growth opportunity.
• I have been doing a lot more writing- including a piece where I was fortunate enough to interview pinup artist legend Olivia De Beradinis and 1960s Batman series star Julie Newmar. Afterwards, I watched a surise in Malibu.
• My bike is fully operational and running again.  However I’m buying another one in the near future… with self propelled wheels.
• I have multiple photoshoots in the works.  That’s right, I’m finally working on that modeling portfolio I’ve been wanting to do for some time now.  If you’re reading this and want to schedule a shoot, email me.
• I flew cross country to meet a fantasy man who has adored me from afar for 4 years.  When I saw him, it felt like the opening scene in this video… and that’s not even the half it.

Life is pretty surreal right now.  However with that also comes the multiple stresses that have come about due to these successes which,  for once, seem to only keep coming.

For the longest time I have been fighting to get to this point in my life.  Now that it’s happening, part of me is scared shitless.

In the midst of all these mind blowing events, the following has also happened- and all within the last week and a half:

• My bank card was compromised despite not leaving my purse.  At this time someone made multiple charges to gas stations out of the area.  While the funds have gone back into my account, I still have not gotten a replacement card over 2 weeks later.  I flew cross country to Chicago with hundreds of dollars in cash in my purse on public transportation just in case of an emergency while out there.
• Going on the trip back to Chicago was mind blowing.  I’m not even talking about the person I met (although he is magical as well… that’s another story in itself).  I saw things about Los Angeles that made me remember why I was so hesitant to stay here.  I saw things about Chicago that I didn’t get the chance to experience much whilst living a mere 45 minutes away.  I felt the warm embrace of a city life I’d always dreamed of.  It made me do a lot of thinking about these other worlds out there.  About a city that is so warm even if it’s blustering cold outside.  Of the opposite scenario.  About how both of these worlds have opened my eyes to more about myself.
• An enormous potential opportunity for my writing may be in the works.  While I can’t reveal exactly what, whom it would potentially be with or anything else, let’s just say it’s one of those things that is the stuff of dreams.
• I pitched something elsewhere and that was also taken with positive reception.  I am so busy as it is, but yet I keep adding more to my plate.
• My sleep schedule has officially broken.  When I was in Illinois, I could barely sleep.  Now I’m back and I either can’t sleep much at all or I’m sleeping too much.
• Did I mention I met someone who had previously been a fantasy?  Do you have any idea how life altering that is?  I flew 2000 miles away to meet this man and he not only met but exceeded my expectations.  Should be easy right?  No.  With the whole 2000 miles it commands a lot of patience.  My brain is jelly and is now coping with the clash of reality and fantasy becoming one and the same.  Things will happen organically if they are meant to happen.  I’m stepping back and breathing.  I don’t have anything to worry about so I should stop worrying.  This one, is essentially the least of the things I am/should be worrying about, but alas, its on my mind because its one of the realest romances I have experienced… and it came out of a fantasy.
• My mother called to remind me about how it’s wrong to be the way that I am essentially.  My whole existence to her is taken with such disdain.  From the fact that I didn’t see her whilst in Chicago to her failure to see how I’m busting my ass off for things she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

And that’s just part of it.

I’ve learned so much about me with all of these experiences.

I’m not always the greatest with things.

I may apologize for the times I falter, but this is pillar of life is strong and vibrant.

I know that it’s alright to be vulnerable.

It’s alright to break down.

Without these moments, one wouldn’t be able to sustain things atop the world.

I have aspirations to conquer the world.  I have the ability within me to do it.  I’ve asked for all these dreams to become realities, and now…

This is happening.

This is really happening.

I’m taking a risk by putting this out in the open.  I currently have career opportunities and stability that… well I’ve never really had since my marriage dissipated years ago.  I’ve wanted this.  I’ve dreamed of this.

I told my biggest fan recently:

“I dreamed of you.”

and he told me “I dreamed of you too.”

Another friend of mine and I had a conversation about him before I got on that plane:

(4:16:58 AM) friend: real life dream girls like you don’t happen every day
(4:17:34 AM) me: aww
(4:17:50 AM) friend: it’s true miss
(4:18:08 AM) me: real life dream boys like him don’t happen every day either

So what the hell is my problem?  I’m so much stronger and braver than I’ve been behaving over the past couple of weeks.  To those that have been there with me through it all, I thank you so very much for your patience, compassion, and your unwavering confidence in me.  It means the absolute world to me.

It’s 5am now.  It’s time to get ready for work.  Here comes a 10 hour day in a dream world.  Here’s another day working towards making even more fantasies become realities.  Here’s to another day of me learning more.

Fail often, succeed once.

Today I’m throwing away failure.  Not only am I going to succeed this once but I’m making a commitment to myself to succeed in much more than that.

We have the ability to get everything we want if we only reach out and grab it.

It just takes time.

Pocket Change

Day 2 of moving back to Culver City and, of course it rained.  My bike went to the Dr. yesterday. Kage’s heart seized and was diagnosed in need of repair.  Months after my entrance and now exit from the magical land I lived in on the East side… it was a bit of an eye opener.  My last day at the Lake was bright and sunny.  But the day that the move was ultimately being done was a sign that the illusion wasn’t built to last.

Tragedies happened this Christmas and things have tended to break around me.

Hearts.

Cars.

Bikes.

I work temporary gigs.  Contractor assignments.  Freelance is great and then it’s not enough.  I’ve been working my ass off here to stay in Los Angeles… to get that view of downtown from my balcony in Silver Lake.  For the opportunity to ride my scooter alongside the ocean.  But at the end of the day I’m back where I started this journey- with my stuff shoved in a storage unit and only a few coins left in my pocket.

And then a package came from a ghost. A few months ago my grandfather on my mother’s side passed.  He was a bit of a tinker (he fixed watches in his spare time while my grandmother worked on jewelry) and collected miscellaneous things.  Growing up, he always had a sea of change.  He accrued it from many a travel… Whether it was a trip to the grocery store or running an errand, he’d take the spare change he had and throw it in a drawer.  One thing I remember about him was that he always would have coins.

When the grandkids would visit he would dump a drawer of it out for us.  We didn’t know it in those days but he didn’t have much of anything really.   But back then, we thought he had a million dollars with all the sea of glittering coins lying in that pile.

On Christmas this year I got a package from my grandmother on my mother’s side.  It didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary so I didn’t open it.

I spent the time with my son.  He asked me what was in the box and I replied:

“Probably jewelry.  Granma Munchalfen always sends mom jewelry.”

I didn’t realize it then but inside was something important.

The rain kept coming down.  And the harder it poured, the more I pushed through the storms of it all.  Just like I always have.  And as the rains washed the city and turned my car into something rivaling Swamp Thing, perhaps something happened to me too.

I got the call about the bike this afternoon.  Not good.  I told the mechanic about my other grandfather who is still very much alive and still riding his own motorcycle.  I thought about how much I wanted to fix things here myself.  The video game industry is not exactly a user friendly environment as per stability.

My great aunt Louise passed away this week at the age of 91.  I thought about my grandparents and about my other family back in suburbia Illinois.

I thought about how much my family meant to me.  How I haven’t been home much since I left except for funerals.  About the unsent card I found addressed to the grandfather that died when I came back from going home the last time.  About how I didn’t have the funds to go home for this one.  All that fighting and nothing but pocket change to show for it.

Change.

My mother called me to talk about things back there.  She asked if I had opened the package from her mother.  She told me that there was something important in it.

On Christmas this year I got a package from my grandmother on my mother’s side with a simple note:

“Grandma wanted everyone to get a little something from Grandpa.  So she separated the coins and by the grace of Grandpa put them into bags so each of you can start your own coin collections.”

Change.

Hmm.  Alright Grandpas, I get it.

The answer was so simple but I was too caught up in everything else that I lost sight of it.

Stability.

Family.

Love.

My grandfather may not have been a rich man by a financial standpoint, but he was rich in heart.

It’s not always easy but the dream is attainable.  Everything is all within your reach.  You just have to open your eyes and embrace the change in your pockets.

 

 

 

Tale of a 5 second vagabond

Today I called a girl I met at a party last summer that is a vagabond.  In my “interviewing” of her she could tell that I was a journalist.  I questioned her about her journey.  I told her a little bit about my story… about feeling the weight of all of this wonderful junk.  What better way to learn something about freedom than from someone who is living a life free of all of that weight.

I asked her how long she had been doing it.

- She’s been living that way for 4 years now.

I asked her if she got tired of that lifestyle.

- She wasn’t.

I asked her if it was worth it.

- She said absolutely.  That she enjoyed how her story was truly unique.  She said she learned a lot about herself and other people- combined and separately.

I asked her if she’d ever found a place that felt like “home.”

-She hadn’t.  She said she saw much of the US and the world but hadn’t had that feeling.  She’d come close but not quite there.

I asked her a lot of questions but what struck me the most was when I asked her this one: What would happen if you fell in love with someone?

-She replied that she believed this would be the time that she stopped vagabonding.  This was all she ever wanted.  This was what deep down she was seeking.

And then… I realized something:

I don’t think I’ll be vagabonding.

I have everything that I could possibly want… everything that I could possibly dream of… right here.

And while it’s not completely all set and perfect, it’s more than most have.  Roots are a treasured commodity of the heart and of the mind.

I have to shed this artificial crap thats holding me back.  When I lighten the load, the rest of the journey will go much smoother.  If you’re going to pack heavy for your trip, pack it in your heart.

I have to fight for this.

I have to make it work.

Why?

Love.

I keep waking up to these dreams about it… and I know that I can make them my reality.

Visualization.

The white room.

I will fight for this.

I will make it work.

Diving Back in: Muse for Hire Goes Overdrive

I have a confession to make.

I have been focusing more on my web series project (one that bloomed out of its parent project) more than I have the documentary for quite some time now.

My computer hit the max and I needed to get another hard drive.

Between that and a litany of other things, the project was more or less put on hold until… go figure, I was feeling a bit more inspiration.

That happened (another awakening if you will) at Comic Con and further more as it continued past.  And while a lot of the video I got at the con may not likely make the doc, it was what happened afterward that actually reminded me “get back on your project, it’s important.”

I do not believe in forcing art.  I am a purist of so many forms.  I want genuine pieces that I can be proud of.

I took a time out… perhaps a lot of that should have been on film.  Perhaps it wasn’t meant to.  It was not a great time for me.

And then the card came.

Cranes and.... subtleties

At the time, I honestly couldn’t tell you how many cranes I was at.  I was slacking and, well, hadn’t folded in months either.  And while I have quite a bit more than the ones shown here, I still haven’t made the mark just yet.

I got this near the day I had originally intended to finish the project- my soft deadline of August 6th- the 64th anniversary of the bomb dropping on Hiroshima: Peace Day.  I had failed but maybe… not just yet.

It was a sign in it’s simplest form sent directly to my doorstop.  As did… other things later.

Nonetheless, it’s time.  It’s not quite time… but…

Wise words from another world echo in the background.  They speak volumes in one short sentence- not written on the back of this card.

They may have just as well have been.

Time will tell.

Time will tell.

Time.

Will…

For now, I shall reach out…

for that muse…

for that…

Well, a girl can’t give everything away.  But the answer may not be what you think.

Bam! Yet ANOTHER project

As some of you may know, I attended Comic Con a few weeks ago.  What many of you do not know is that my background in video games is only proceeded by comic books.

Growing up, my family, in particular my father, has had a love for books.  Dad would hand me books since before I could read.  He told me tales of fantasy and these larger than life characters.  My mother never understood this aspect.  I truly believe dad may have been doing it partially to piss her off.

They are now divorced and happier.  She lives in Illinois still with her new husband.  Dad lives in suburbia Los Angeles in the dreaded 909.

The comic books that I collected growing up are currently stored in a trunk in a garage at my mother’s home.  I am actually quite amazed that they are still there, regardless of whichever condition that they may be in.  You see, my mother burned the baseball cards I collected at the time.

Dad’s house is like another world entirely.  Everywhere you look is traces of his fixation with comic books.  He has a full bedroom for my son that is nothing but Spiderman.  Dad is a big kid at heart.  He frequents comic shops weekly.  He raised me on books like Tales from the Crypt, Batman, and Spiderman.

Uncle Jay & I in my son's Spiderman Room

Despite my recent cosplay endeavor, I wasn’t always a Supergirl fan.  Dad wasn’t interested in Superman.  It seems that you are either a Batman fan or a Superman fan.  We were the former.  The new Detective Comics featuring Batwoman are currently in my monthly “must pick up list.”  Superman still has of yet to make a regular home for me.

However even back then I really didn’t partake as much from the mainstream comic book lines.  There has always been a draw for me to the artistically popping, underdogs of indie comic books.  Maybe that’s why I was rebellious growing up.  Maybe that’s why, to a degree, I still am.  It feels awesome to be a cliche.

After the convention I began to re-evaluate where my passions were.  While I do love video games, I have found that the community within the comic book industry has some very important things to offer me that, well video games really don’t for me- timelessness and a foundation in encouraging literacy and imagination in its execution.

I found myself looking back.  At my own childhood.  Of sitting on shoulders with loose teeth as my dad pointed to superheroes on comic books.

In present day, I have passed these things to my children as well.  I encourage my son to read comic books.  And, while he may go with his grandfather and read those mainstream books, he also reads indies with his mother.

my son reading "The Edge" a story within Volume 3 of the comic "Flight"

I realized that I had not been completely true to myself.  Perhaps part of the reason why I never felt at ease or why it didn’t just all fall into place was that.  I was denying myself the potential to reach further.

When I went to Comic Con, I was representing Girls Entertainment Network.  And while I am thankful for the opportunity I had to work with them, I have come to realize that I have a different vision for how I would like to proceed with my venture into comic book journalism.

Approximately 2 years ago I purchased a series of domains for various projects that I was considering.  I had been mulling over the thought about a comic book site for some time but never made the jump into it.

I went to a movie showing of the 1943 rare Batman serial and an exhibit this weekend on the Golden Age of comic books over at the Skirball Cultural Center.  It reminded me so much about what we, as a culture, have lost, what we have gained, and what remains the same though it may have a different face.

It was profound and moving with its subtleties and brash overtones.

The time has come.  The past doesn’t always have to be so scary.  Neither does the future.  It’s time they shook hands.

I will continue to write freelance for comic book realted sites, but am also gathering steam for what I need to make a website that I believe will be something I am proud of.  Please stay tuned for further information about my site: Superficially Iconic: “a site for comic book intellectuals.. and everyone else too.”

The sky's the limit oh dear Superfriend of mine.

See you at Long Beach Comic Con.  And now I have to get ready for a superhero birthday party… Marvel turned the big seven-oh today don’t you know?

Parables: The power in simplicity

There was not a moon hung in the sky that night as the friends made their way to the evening’s festivities.  Blurred wavelengths of color mark the streets as they weave in and out of traffic.  Like a painter gracefully presses their brush along a canvas, this is their dance.  It is their silent impact.  It is their passion and fervor embracing their fast past turning world.

I

was

here.

If only for a moment.

If only for these moments.

Plates and silverware clink amidst the roars and hushes of chatter at a local spot by the beach.  The pair break through the sound and enter.  They are eager for this time of relaxation and the company of friends.

It is like every cliche night in Los Angeles.  Even when business is over for the day, it is still business as usual.  If anything, it is the kind of night where the most business happens just as much as it is about relaxing.

We sat there and ate cake and drank a few rounds.  We smiled.  We laughed.  Everyone was enjoying the company.  Everyone was enjoying the chatter.

A drink sits lonesome by at the end of the table.

“Whose is this?”

“He’s coming to join us.”

A man in black with an apron slung around his waist approaches the table.

“It will be about 15 minutes before I am done with my shift.  I have to do some paperwork.  I’ll be right over.”

“Come have your drink.”  the group insists.

“Not yet.  I’m on the clock and I have my integrity.”

The drink glows in the moonlight and sings its own silent overture to the starless sky above them.

He finished his shift and pulled a chair over.  The party was not complete for the evening.  However, this is the point when it started to get more real.  Every single other person on there was highly involved within a specific scene, even if their places in line were not the same.  The server was the odd person out in the group.

I asked him simple questions.

Icebreakers.

I wanted to make sure he felt fully included.

“Where did you work before this job?  Is this the job that you would like to have or are you an actor?”

It was very cliché.  I was very… rude actually.

“I lived in Vermont.” he said.

“But what did you do there exactly?” I asked him again.

He stated to tell his story.  He was trying so hard to belong to the group.

“I was working in computers.”

“But what in computers?”

The table echoed with questions pertaining to various fields.

“I was working a help desk.”

More questions as to specifics.

In a way, I felt bad.  Not because of his answers.  Not because But because we were so to the T about his responses yet the majority of us are entrepreneurs.  Our work and dreams are similar to this man’s, even if they aren’t always the same.

He turned the discussion to the rest of the table.  One by one, like an AA meeting, we all spoke about our jobs and stated our names.

Entrepreneur.  PR. Consulting. Etcetera.

The flashlight came my way and I failed.  As I have so many hats on currently, what I didn’t say was what I knew the most.  I had spoken a lot about both but also relatively little, even if I had been verbose.  Succinctly there were only two answers that should have been said.

“I  am a writer.  Sometimes it’s for money.  Sometimes it’s not.  But it’s always with heart.”

Transpose the word artist for writer and have the same answer.

Sometimes things shouldn’t have to be so wordy or complex.  There is so much complexity in the purity.  But only if you look inwardly for it and only if you listen.  I have learned that being dynamic is like constantly being on stage.  You have to be bold.  You have to be brazen.  You have to be fully aware of what you are.

You have to…

You have to…

You have to….

“I  am an artist.  Sometimes it’s for money.  Sometimes it’s not.  But it’s always with my heart- fully open and susceptible to being broken and put back together again and again in every single thing that I do.”

Because that is who I am and that’s what I am proud of.  Every.  Single.  Day.

Prose: Untitled focus

“Enjoy the concert.  Here’s hoping this guy makes you smile.” he said as I was preparing to leave.

A text message from another world came in… what he didn’t know, was that I was already glowing.

“I don’t need a dude to have a good time.”  I told him.

And I didn’t.

And I don’t.

I realized that anything above and beyond that, regardless if worked out or not, was just a bonus.

It has taken me a long time to get here, but I’ve finally arrived.

This is who I am.

This is who I want to be.

It’s nice to meet

… me.

My eyes are open.

My heart is as well.

Love is a battlefield.  You don’t have to retreat but you have to keep your shield up, even if it is a weapon as the Spartans say.

I am prepared to be the person I have always wanted to be…

I am prepared to learn the lessons and experience the pain and the levity without prejudice.

Because that is how you get stronger.

Because that is how you progress.

With a concrete squishy heart…

With eyes wide open…

I know that anything is possible.

All I need

“A man in the desert still searches for water.”

Wise words from a friend of mine when telling him a bit of the back story.

A story not to grace these pages today.

I know what I want.  It’s a very specific catch.

Very very specific.

Why does a man in  the desert still quest for water?

Simple.

Only when you’re stripped away of everything, can you see exactly what you want.. what you need.. to survive.

“I think perhaps everyone needs to take that journey.” I told him.

“Funny you mention that.  I do that often.  I did it recently actually.”

I smiled and made a face at him.

“What’s that face mean?”

“Tease.”

I know what I want.  It’s a very specific catch.

Very very specific.

I think a drive is in order.

Strong Enough

A few weeks ago I was on a rooftop with someone dear to me & a woman in a cafe started singing this.  So we danced. And for one moment it was wonderful, even though it was nothing but a moment.

I oftentimes find myself wondering now if I will ever find the right man who will love me unconditionally and.. well deal with the fact that I’m not perfect.  I thought I found that man a few times.

Perhaps I really had found him.

Or perhaps it was a mirage.

I always seem to hold onto the ones that people seem to tell me I should let go.  I don’t believe in hopeless causes. I… I’m realizing by the small things that people do, that I’m worth more than I gave myself credit for.  This is not to say that I think I am better than anyone else.  It is simply saying… I’ve learned that I am capable of receiving some amazing acts of devotion from all of my relationships- which are happily reciprocated in the ways that I can.

I think it’s easy to forget just how much those little things mean.  It’s ironic because the very acts are simple in it of themselves.

Perhaps it’s why I love sending postcards so much.

Or smiling at everyone I see.

If it makes their day even remotely as much as it makes mine when I receive one, then I’m doing alright.

Are chivalry and romance really dead or is it just hibernating? Believe it or not, it exists here in LA.

I’ve been very fortunate.  I’ve experienced a spectrum of emotions.

• I’ve gone on terrible dates.
• I’ve gone on absolutely AMAZING dates.
• I’ve been a spoiled brat.
• I’ve been happily poor and just warm enough with love.

When will that man that’s strong enough step forward and show it?

Probably when I say… I’m strong enough not to need one either way.  But damn it would be amazing to have a partner in crime sometimes.

The War

Something happened yesterday that I won’t be getting into this posting. Something happened that I will however.

The ball dropped. Was it the other shoe?

For reasons unknown

For reasons I’d like to believe in

I know that I’m going to be alright.

The number 4 is now a prominent figure.. fading in and out like a neon sign on a dive bar.

But trinity would be close behind. As the rise and fall of one gasp of the fourth seems to not know for sure if they indeed want to be a contender.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…

to you?

to you?

to you?

to you?

to me?

I’m being haunted even in my daydreams. Driving around. I see reoccurances of the same car. Your car. Perhaps it’s coincidence.

But then it’s followed by yet another sign.

Of 444′s and hope…

Destiny. Fate. Someone is watching over me. I’m in the right place. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

There’s a war going on inside my head.

One of passion and desire. One of things I cannot say. One that I’ve said to a handful of people.

I walk alone.

In the distance, the quiet roar of the freeway. The rain drops on me and all I want to do is lay in bed.

But I can’t.

I have to get up. I have to move out of my comfort zone.

I have to find the right path that will lead me…