Words help me breathe.

Finally a moments rest…ironically I feel like staying up half the night because I’d rather tomorrow not come before I’m ready.

Armed with a glass of wine, at last a moment to myself, I am remembering how soothing it is to put my thoughts into words. I’ve taken quite the unexplained hiatus from blogworld… not that I ever fully engaged enough to reciprocate the love and kindness I’ve received from all of you. But at this moment in time, there is nothing I want more than to re-connect… with you, with my thoughts, with the words inside my head. I miss you all… I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you.

My interim of silence can only be explained by this… I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with my career, had some unbelievable opportunities come my way,  and as a result I’ve severely neglected most other aspects of my life.

Now I believe it’s time to re-connect, with you, with me… to seek a healthy balance of loving my work, but also loving myself. So here I am… going back to the one thing that has always kept me grounded. I vow to write more. Please wish me the best at untangling the words inside my cluttered mind as I try to re-claim myself.

Remembering Him

It’s been nearly 5 years since I last heard my brother’s voice… 3 and half since his death. I’ve come to a point where I can remember him, tell stories, the funny ones that make you laugh… usually with tears in my eyes, but now I can at least smile and finish the story…mostly. Except for tonight.

It’s funny how things can jog your memory or consciousness… things that you bury inside, or that you think heals with time…only to resurface from a familiar song or smell, a face, a similarity so obscure, but yet so deep, it begins to hurt inside all over again. Tonight it came on so suddenly, I was not prepared. My sadness resurfaced all over again… like it used to.It used to come in manic waves…over and over, until the waves got smaller and smaller.

My brother. I’m thinking about my brother, and I still can’t believe he’s gone.

Tears instantly streaming down my cheeks, I remember how much I miss him. I want to cry in somebodies arms, and tell them how much I miss him.  But, it’s 3 and a half years later… and who can I tell now? My family is just as heartbroken as I am, even till this day, and I don’t want to make them relive the pain I know they still have inside. We’ve all cried so many tears. It hurts just as much to see them cry. It’s not the kind of thing you call a friend and confess, even the closest friend… it sort of kills anyones mood, and they won’t know what to say anyways.

I miss my brother. I don’t know who to tell that to anymore. I don’t think this pain ever leaves a person. So tonight I’ll cry alone… remembering him.

Home for the Holidays.

I hadn’t seen my family in a year… I missed them dearly. So much, that I booked my trip home for 12 days. 12 DAYS! What was I possibly thinking?!

It was bitterly cold so we were forced to hibernate in our living room, where my family launched into repetitious babble, each talking over one another, to the point where you realize that no one was listening to each other in the first place! I listened, mute by choice, exhausted by my futile attempts to chime in… as they continued to talk at one another. And so it went… for 8 days.

The last 4 where filled with the energy and excitement Christmas is supposed to bring, as well as the sorrow and indescribable loss that binds our family. It’s a particularly difficult time of year for us all, as we are each still grappling with my brother’s death in our own ways. I stayed with my sister-in-law (his wife), and my two adorable nephews, now ages 3 and 5. It’s bittersweet in a way, to see the life inside of them and feel my brother’s presence, as we mourn his loss.

All in all, 12 days is too long of a visit for me to swallow without my brother… he was the only one I could really talk to. We used to retreat to our own prospective corner of the house and laugh hystarically about mostly anything. He got me; we got each other… man I miss him. Family gatherings are just not the same anymore, not without my partner in crime.

Despite how annoying my family can be, the one thing I’ve learned through all this is to cherish the time you have together. Perhaps it’s not the length of time that matters, but rather the frequency and quality of time we share together. I regret not having made the effort to go home more when my brother was alive. I miss him every day, and I’m afraid now and I’ve missed too many days of the family I have left. It’s hard to face them alone, but maybe in small doses, I can feel better about our time together.

Biding Time.

I’ve often wondered about the lives of people I see on my daily commutes. It’s sterile and monotonous…the train, the time we idly bide as a necessary means to fulfill our occupations. Each of us wishing we could be somewhere else, with someone else… fast forward or rewind to a time where we didn’t have to play that awkward avoid-eye-contact-with-one-another game.

This was just a girl on the train one afternoon. She looked so tired and cozy; I thought it was beautiful…little did she know that I was snapping such lovely photographs of her from across the isle. This is how I bide my time to break up the the monotony of my daily grind.

Long Lost Love.

The love between us never went away. We broke each other’s hearts, simply because we didn’t know how to make it work. A year has passed, and despite the pain and loss we felt once before, we cannot deny the feelings we still hold inside. It’s a rare thing to find this kind of love…I can only hope that this time, we manage to hold on to it.

Open door.

Have you ever closed the door to one possibility, only to revisit that option later in life? It’s hard to know whether or not to go down a path you’ve already been… hard revisit something with fresh eyes, when you’ve already seen what you’ve seen. However, it’s easier to resort to familiarity and a life you were accustomed to, especially when it seems there aren’t any new doors worth opening. Is it wrong to believe a walk along a familiar path will seem any different on another day?

Winter.

I was really, really hoping to wake up to blue skies and sunshine this morning… that didn’t happen. More rain, wind, and dirty clouds. UGH. What’s more, is the weather guy solidified the fact that winter is coming, with his 5 day forecast of COLD. I have been ignoring the inevitable…winter is on its way.

Where were you when Obama was elected President?

I watched the election on a big screen TV at a local bar up the street from my house.

As the results for each state were announced the crowd would boo (McCain) or cheer (Obama). As one guy, standing next to me, said it best: “This is like watching the world series of freedom!”

I have to agree. I’ve never felt this proud of my country before. Barack Obama has done what no one imagined possible. He has restored my faith in humanity and given me hope for a new America.

Congratulations Barack Obama for winning a well-fought race with dignity, poise, conviction, and courage.

For all I know, last night may have been the most monumental political event I will ever witness in my lifetime. I brought my camera along with me to document this piece of history. Although it was dark, I captured what I could of the moment and have started a public, online photo group so that I can share those photos with you. It is my hope that you too will post your photographs and stories of the night here as well.

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words?

I’ve fallen madly in love with my camera. Seriously, it’s occupies all my spare time these days. I’ve upgraded to a Cannon G9, so I can start to learn the true mechanisms of a camera… you know aperture, shutter speed, etc. It’s challenging to understand right now, but I’m learning to work with it.

Recently, my passion for photography has been refueled with the help of a new friend of mine… we’ll call him Chicago. Chicago is one hell of a photographer who wanted some inspiration. I’m, well… an amateur photographer that needs practice! So together we decided to create weekly photo assignments based on different themes. At the end of the week we upload them to an online group, where we can both post our photographs and share our work.

So far, this experience has been amazing. Not only do I carry my camera everywhere these days, but I’m using it… a lot! It is interesting to see each other’s photographs and compare each other’s perspectives on the topic. I am learning through practice, and inspired by our mutual love of cameras.

The only drawback to this endeavor is that I’ve become so immersed in my new world of photography, that I’ve seriously been neglecting my blog. Writing and having this artistic outlet is so important to me. So, I’ve been trying to figure out how to maintain both… realizing that, as of lately, I’ve become all-consumed with photography.

Today I think I found my answer. As I was looking at other people’s photographs I found one woman, in particular, that I liked. She has some great photographs, but what really caught my eye was that she describes each one, as she took them:

OldhaMedia says:

Photo taken by: OldhaMedia

Lunchtime.

36th and 8th.

Chan (a total stranger who struck up a conversation with me) saw my camera and asked me to take a picture of him in front of the very big dog in the truck.

Chan would not stop chewing, however.

Margot (my co-worker – not pictured) could not wrap her Seattle brain around the fact that I talk to strangers on the street.

The pigeons were a gift from the photo gods.

—

Photo taken by: OldhaMedia

This is Donde. Maybe he said Dante.

Whatever.

I saw him across the intersection of Spring and Broadway, dancing with the pink bubble guns he was selling.

I shot as much as I could before the batteries died.

He danced and fired off thousands of bubbles with such complete joy, filling the streets with shining gems of soap and air, it made me feel filled with the same joy just watching him.

I went over and told him so.

His hair was amazing… Woven with shells and silver trinkets and things he loves… He told me that six years ago, he shook off his corporate shackles and decided to do only that which brings him happiness. His long dreadlocks are a symbol of that rebellion.

I’m mad about Donde… Or Dante… Whatever.

Yes, I now own a pink bubble gun, too.

Anyways, I thought I’d share my newest love in life with you… My words may be short and sweet over these next few months, as I’m glued to my lens. I’d like to share my photos with you, and as OldhaMedia has so candidly done. I hope you will enjoy following along with me as I explore a new world of art.

My Photos

When It Rains, It Pours.

After a weekend of non-stop rain and gray skies, my spirits were already down. I need to see the sunshine every day. It is more than just a desire… it is a necessity for me to feel whole inside. So believe me when I tell you, I was totally unequipped to start my week all over again. This Monday in particular was tougher than usual to swallow.

I went to the bank early to deposit some money into my account. I panicked, after looking at my balance and realizing that the $400 cash I deposited on Saturday had not posted to my account. I asked the teller why this money wasn’t there. After looking up my account, she informed me that there was no record of any transaction on Saturday. WHAT the F***?!

Now, I’m not always so diligent about tracking my deposits and withdraws or even saving my receipts from my banking transactions. However, it happens to be the end of the month, when all my bills are due and every bit of money must be accounted for. So the sheer fact that $400 of my money is missing without a trace, after I placed it in the hands of a bank teller on Saturday is absolutely disturbing! I am appalled that this is even possible!

THANK GOODNESS I SAVED MY BANK RECEIPT! For all of you, please, PLEASE, let this be a lesson… ALWAYS SAVE YOUR BANK RECEIPTS! After calling my bank, they informed me that the only way to resolve this matter is to bring my receipt into the branch where I made the deposit. Heh… pain in the ass, since I have to WORK during banking hours. Meanwhile my account has been over-drafted, twice, since my bills were scheduled for automatic withdraw… so I am left to deal with the anxiety of mounting over-draft fees, for which the bank WILL take off, once I resolve this matter. This whole situation, is completely unnecessary, but believe it or not, has happened once before. Folks, let me repeat the lesson learned: ALWAYS SAVE YOUR BANK RECEIPTS!

So, Monday was already off to a bad start. I was exhausted from work and ridden with anxiety from my dealings with the bank. As I plodded home through the rain, I took a deep breath, realizing this would all be resolved in time. I tried to relax, as soon, I’d be in the comforts of my own home… only when I arrived, another surprise awaited. I walked into a disaster! At first I thought my apartment had been ransacked, as the floor was covered with debris, but as I looked up, I saw a gaping hole in my kitchen ceiling! A 3X5 foot section of water-logged plaster had collapsed onto my kitchen table and floor. My kitchen was covered in filth. I could hardly believe my luck! This was too much for one day… too much to deal with, when I hadn’t seen the sun.

A few days later, the sun has peaked out briefly, and so too have my spirits. My landlord has been very responsive to the situation. The roofers have already come out to make the proper structural repairs, and the contractor is on his way here today to assess the interior damage. As for the bank… we’ll take care of that situation today as well. After my first good night’s sleep in days, I am recovering, breathing… moving on. It’s easy to be overwhelmed when one stressful situation is compounded by another. Everything has a way of working itself out… I just need to remind myself of that in times of stress.