In Between

Our trip to Belize was short and sweet. Ambergris Caye, the island on which we stayed, is an colorful to the eye and satiating to the tongue. We fell in love with their banana pineapple smoothies (with a dash of coconut cream) and the water was so warm. The people were so friendly and open, sometimes a little too much. My favorite day was the day we did absolutely nothing. I had a chance to slow down and quiet my mind, something I haven't been able to do in I can't remember how long.

Below are some photos of our arriving by water taxi to the yoga retreat, shots during our bike ride along the coast, our view from the hammocks we took over, and from underwater, swimming with nurse sharks and sting rays! Hope you enjoy this glimpse of paradise, and may it encourage you to find a slice of your own :)

From our apartment we can see lights for a carnival that wasn't there before. A few weekends ago we finally got a chance to go and relive the nostalgia of cotton candy and prizes. I really just wanted to take my camera out and I'm so glad I did. But can I just say that the small ferris wheel (last photo) is the scariest ride I've ever been on?Jeebus holy moly christ.

A woman was on a vacation to become happier and while she was away, the love of her life died, and she was so stricken with grief that she arranged to have a new body made for her to live in, and when it was ready she would transfer her memories to the body, like a hard drive. But she could only transfer chunks at a time because there was only so much bandwidth, but in the process the company ended losing the rest of her memories, including the ones of the love of her life. The dream was about her struggle to find these lost memories, as painful as they may be, while in this new, shiny body of her new life.

If this is not a movie yet, then I call Hollywood dibs on the plot. If it is, well, then, please tell me what movie it is so I can add it to my Netflix queue!

Can I just say that I am completely excited about life, to the point where I'm excited for everyone else? I'm feeling a sense of adventure and hopefulness, with no reservation. I suppose this all could be influenced by the fact that just came back from a vacation in Belize (will post photos once my instant cameras develop), or the fact that I'm also starting a new job soon! Seems to be a pattern, no? I'm okay with patterns.

PS) After waking up this morning, I read an article in the NYTimes about a woman who rebuilt a home and new life for herself in a way I admire to the core. See photos here.

"I had the raddest of rad dreams," is how I thought I'd start sharing, finding the words while drifting from sleep to wake this morning. Now I'm not sure how rad I understand it was to be, but let me tell you anyway.

I was a guest at a wedding, with all different kinds of people like a high school prom, cheerleaders here, hip hop dancers there, stuffy fluffy poufs over here. I somehow assumed the role of wedding photographer, at first just capturing quiet candid moments. Soon I was organizing people into groups, giving them direction on poses, props. The atmosphere was fun and lively and people were waiting and I had to say you're next! I promise. And they'd laugh and wait anyway.

I saw it all through the viewfinder. At one point I couldn't get a group of people holding albums standing on a flight of stairs into the frame, and being below I couldn't capture the back row, no matter where I stood. On an instinct I ran to the table behind me, a wooden board on two horses, really, and jumped up on it to get the best view. The people gathered around, eating and drinking at the table were shocked for a moment, but soon caught up with the energy and cheered me on! By the time I was standing on the edge of the plank, instructing people at the other end to weigh it down like a see saw, I saw my subjects had arranged themselves on the flight of stairs so creatively... the albums they were holding were now color coordinated, and beaming up at me. I shouted out gratitude for making my job easier, and snapped away while the people below laughed and cheered at this wild photographer. More and more people flooded onto the steps to get into this mega shot and I jumped up with joy. I jumped up but didn't come down. I was floating. Up and up and up -- unafraid, high off endorphins...

I remember at one point slinging by camera down to hand it to someone before gracefully swinging to the ground from a rope. I remember losing that camera and all the happy faces I captured. I remember looking for Jason to share this moment, losing my smile at the fact that he'd missed it all.

I remember taking a walk on a bright spring day, my sisters and mom and I barely squeezing through a narrow path lined with little dwarf homes with little dwarf field flowers and little dwarf mailboxes and sunlight spilling itself over everything. I saw it all through the viewfinder. I woke with this tension, not fitting into the space of such beautiful surroundings, wanting to take it all home with me, not being able to.

I came home late last night and he points me to the hallway I'd just walked through. You want me to... leave? I look back and see something new, an addition that wasn't there before. I walk over and instantly recognize it as the last Tugboat print I was pining over in my last post, The Iceberg. He'd read my blog and my not-so-subtle hint and he actually bought it for me! He even looked through all the rest of the items in their shop to be sure that's the one I'd really like. Smitten, with him for listening, and the poster for being pure awesome.


What I love most about the poster is that it's beyond that, the idea of "what's below the tip of the iceberg". I observe the meticulous detail required to design the piece and then to register chunks of wood to precision... I love feeling that part of the art -- the making part, the part that makes it made. Good job, Tugboat!

Woodblock prints by Paul Roden + Valerie Lueth of Tugboat Printshop in Pittsburg, PA. I would kill for any of these pieces, esp the last one. *cough* jason *cough* .

Did you hear that huge sigh of relief? I just got back from lunch and sun basking in the park, hands down  my top favorite thing to do alone. The weather has bummed me out to the max, and then here comes the sun, soaking my pant threads like a sauna. So warm. So worth it. Today's people-watching treat was a couple of guys practicing back flips.



Speaking of sun, my friend is convincing me to go to Belize with her next month for a few days. Flights are less than $600 round trip. Should I do it? We could stay here; more photos here.

HMMMMMMMMM.....

I've apparently written this somewhere before, but I can't find the post anywhere, so I'm posting again. And even though I haven't been consistent with my Series, I'm establishing this one today.

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Each one of us is connected. Some of us on many many levels. This entry is inspired by Mayu Ishikawa and Lola Muldrew.

In my recent years of life I've shared probably thousands of private experiences. By private, you curious monkeys, I mean a connection that is mutually recognized as a connection, and occurs between two people. Whether it be profound or futile, long or momentary, productive or lazy, it's understood as a legit experience, and registered.

Now (the plot thickens), the exciting part is that I can walk away from that private experience feeling a certain way, but the other person could very well walk away from that very same experience feeling completely opposite! That truth fascinates me and baffles my mind. That I could feel something completely independent of another person's knowledge and so it will be until I give them, and myself, permission to share that feeling. They'd never know otherwise. And the same goes the other way. Now for the depressing truth: such confessions almost never happen.

This program's focus is Sharing. Be honest and open with the people who are gracious enough to share their lives with you. Would you want to know if you changed my life with a seemingly insignificant act? Would you want to know what part of you has become a part of me? I would. We all would. I want to practice this for the rest of my life.

So, to start, I will be taking the time to "confess" an anonymous connection I've had here on IBD. It will take energy, time and concentration, but so does anything and everything else that matters (funny that the acronym for "energy time and concentration" is "etc", as if it's common procedure). Without names, know that I write to you. Yes, you, because you changed my life that one fine day.

You will know who you are.

Today, a quote:

"I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool."

-- Theodore I. Rubin, MD