Lost

Have you ever been so… in love with life that you lose track of small things along the way?

I have been more attentive to noticing things more abstractly than I have with things technically in some ways.  Little things like the scratches from wear and tear at a coffeeshop table… where the light forms perfectly to make Mr Shrader’s eyes pop the most…

Perhaps I am a bit twitterpated.  Perhaps it’s something deeper.

I feel at a heightened level of artistry.  My eyes are wide open but the shutters in my brain keep taking photographs…

These are days… nights… treasured and cherished memories of a life fully lived.

Friday night, though memorable, was not a good one however.

You see, all this time that I feel I’d been searching for my identity…

When I finally was confident in saying “I’ve found it!”

That’s when it happened.

I lost my purse on Friday.  In it: my drivers liscense, my social security card… my camcorder for which I’m filming my documentary Muse for Hire.

My life.

Gone in a moment.

Missing

Now everything that was in my purse is fully replaceable.  I care naught about matierial things.  As I’ve grown older, I have become more and more numb to this sort of phenomenon bothering me.  In fact, you might dare to say that I am so used to life screwing up like this on me that I’ve learned to more or less just laugh about it.

For example for those of you that missed previous episodes of my car troubles of the past year, here’s a look at the last one which happened about a month ago.

If anything, getting “my life back” was, for the most part more of a series of errands and annoyances than anything else.  I went to the police station and filed a report about it, cancelled my bank card, headed to the dmv…

I missed roller derby for the weekend but ended up at 6 flags with Mr Shrader anyway.  I made the best of the weekend and wasn’t even late to work this morning.

The thing that bothers me most about the whole thing: that camcorder.

And not for what it was, but for what it stood for.  Those moments of film… my life… my story… my…

I believe that everything happens for a reason.

This weekend was yet another blur with Mr Shrader.  Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be on film.  Maybe those events were meant to be our secrets.  

A fantastical blur that I am not sure will happen again (I hope it does, as this was something I wondered the weekend prior) but one that is marked with…

He is enigmatic and magical in ways that he doesn’t even realize.  Oh Cancerous man… indeed you are inspirational.

Which brings me back to the project.

I have hit a snag due to this incident this weekend.  If anyone would like to help me continue you it, I would love any and all support that you would give me.  Even if it’s just kind words.

I’ve learned a lot through the making of this documentary.  Life, like this project is a process and a labor of love.  The things in life that are the most worthwhile are not achieved instantly… they evolves and grow.  Inspiration, patience, keeping your head up in the face of…it’s not easy.

And then I heard a song playing…

I once was lost, but now am found.

To that, I reply:

A few sentences on a page cannot possibly be enough justification to fully chronicle me. I am who I am. I don’t chase magic because I am magic… and only the stars can come close to defining me.
 

I once was lost, but now am found…

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Clueless

After writing a blog about patience,  I sit here today and await a couple of emails today.  As we all know, Gmail decided  to implode.  In its wake of refreshing, I elected to waste some time taking a Facebook quiz…

Of which, the following question comes up that I am clueless as to which one to answer:

How would you describe yourself?

  • Simple
  • Elegant
  • Rebellious
  • Crazy
  • Glamorous
  • Chill
  • Modern
  • Adventerous
  • Traditional

Why?  Because I admit, I’m a bit of all of the above.  I have my moments where I am just a touch crazy.  As an artist, its rare when there is such a thing as complete sanity.  For the most part I’d like to say though that I am very simple, occassionally glamorous, traditional but quite modern at the same time… etctera.

What I want is something like all of this…

“I want a blend of simple, fiery, easy going, passionate, madness, comfort and adventure… unattainable.”

I know exactly what I want and who I am… and yet here I am… clueless.

Labels.

I love thee and yet, you are ridiculous.

(Gmail please work soon.)

Submission

Despite that I would more or less admit to being a switch, and am obedient in matters with the lover that makes it past my microscope, in some ways I feel as if I am constantly being tested with submissions.

Two things are at the top of my mind:

My submission to a 9-5 steady gig, and.. ____.

Patience.

I’m folding 1000 paper cranes right now for my documentary project.  This should be helping, but the road is not always easy getting there.

I want a pair of ruby slippers.

I want to close my eyes and fast forward to the happy ending.

I have found that my expectations in other people, my wants…

there are very few people in this world that are ever going to meet them and it’s a bit…

What happened to chivalry?  What happened to manners?  What happened to dazzling a woman and paying attention to detail?

I was taken back by my own failure to do the latter recently.  Had I done that, perhaps things would have been different.  Lessons learned and steps back taken.  I don’t think the world is a lost cause.  I just wish…

There’s no place like home.

There’s no place like home.

There’s no place….

I need to go back to work.

Patience, oh virtuous one be with me evermore.

Gold stars for you: Moving is more than moving

I haven’t talked to her in a few months.  We’d said that we were going to talk more.  We used to be best friends.  You know, back before he happened.

I introduced her to her boyfriend- a guy I knew from a website around the same I started to date Big.  While we all know what happened with him, her relationship, though cross country not only lasted but she arrived in New York this week to take up residence to be near him.

Her sheer amount of patience through the struggle of being away from the person she loved for so long is admirable.  I envy her in a way.  It is not something that I think I could have done.

Her cross country love story- from Alaska all the way out East, gives me a bit of hope.

Everything is possible if you add heart and push yourself.

So while I push harder than ever to get through some of the things going on here, my bag is a carry on tote.   These cranes will continue to be folded.  And perhaps wishes and dreams really can come true… but only if you give yourself entirely to the goal.

Here’s to fighting to making that move… everyday closer to that one bit of manifest destiny that resides within each and every one of us.

And with that, I have to go back to work.

Gold stars to you my former best friend.  I miss you.  Congrats on making it home.

Ownership

“Did I tell you once that you are the kind of girl that guys want to own?”

I paused and withdrew a bit as he continued.  As we talked, we came to many conclusions.

“Too much honesty.”

Perhaps so.  No… he’s right.  Part of the problem is that I have been too honest.  Part of the problem is that amidst my open honesty with others, I have failed in areas within myself.

Apathetic and vibrancy… the merge of introverted and extroverted.

Two worlds which coexist, but when joined can result in a transferrance of volatility, passion, and…

Understanding.

I am scrubbing away with a fever.  Despite the imperfections, they both may very well be perfect.

There is toxin in her lips.

There is toxin in his essence.

But he’s in a class all of his own.

He is on his own pedestal and hers as well, though he may not believe he is worth it.

She is one that dances in the moonlight.

She saunters in a room and doesn’t go unnoticed.

She is the rock and also the pearl hidden away deep at the bottom of the sea.

She is like the sun that brings out the sparkles of the rage of currents.

She is the calm before the storm.

He is the waves that rush upon the shore.

He is the rock along the beach.

Steady and constant, but often filled with turmoil.

He wants nothing but safe waters for the boats along his spine.

He is protective and vigilant…. he wants no one to be hurt.

He wants not to be the one to get hurt.

And these two forces, both great and mighty fight and push and pull with their toxins.

Is it a lost cause?

Perhaps the cause is that much greater…

Genuine.

Real.

Simple…

Madness.

Passionate.

Vibrant.

Worthwhile.