tlaquepaque, mexico. march 10th, 2009
i once met a man and asked him if it were true that when you get older, you become wiser. he said that the only answer was to get older. looking back to when i was a kid, i realize that my ignorance was a virtue. i saw the world in colors and shapes. now my nerves keep me awake at night. i think about the future and what i want to do with my life. i asked that same man if he had any advice for me. he told me to quit living and start breathing. "look around at the life you lead. listen to the wind and the trees. take time to smell the ocean breeze and sleep on the beach." he said that the beauty of this world was in its complexity and that our lives for the most part are ordinary. he told me to never stop painting, but mostly, never stop creating. "you're as free as your mind will let you be. so, what's holding you back?" he asked, "fear or laziness??"
yesterday i was both a child and an adult.
i stretched my fingertips to the sunshine and learned to open and extend all my womanly curves and to push and pull against another human form. i love yoga. i swayed and rocked and soaked in the wake and waves in my kayak. i got kissed by the sun. i swung on the swings and closed my eyes and i was back in elementary school, swinging through the warm crowded noisy air. i drank. i danced. i twirled. i met, spoke, and was flattered. above all, i felt so incredibly independent. i am becoming okay in all this change. becoming. my life currently stares at a reflection so extraordinarily opposite of what it saw six months ago. a year ago even, when my honest happiness was found somewhere now obsolete. i am diving into my convictions. i am learning to let go. and here is my process, my path, my catharsis. so it goes.