The most honest lie
Halloween, I'm finding, is a favorite holiday of many. What's not to love about it? People of all ages, shapes, and sizes get to dress up in some ridiculous (or totally awesome) costume to exercise some aspect of an alter ego. It's one day out of the year during which everyone is okay with each other acting a little goofy, weird, peculiar, eccentric, etc. I think somewhere between the planning, trick-or-treating, partying, and dressing as someone/something else, a more honest part of ourselves comes out. Maybe we should wear costumes more often.
As I sat with my sister on her front porch, waiting to treat trick-or-treaters, I thought about how Halloween is one of the most honest holidays. Absent are the attempts to convince children of Santa or the Easter bunny's existence (you can throw the tooth fairy in there too, though she/he doesn't have a holiday per say)....or stories about "pilgrims and indians" sitting down to a nice, harmonious, well-intentioned feast (eh-hem, we'll leave out the whole part about colonists giving the Native Americans furs that were infected with smallpox). Granted, our holidays have become entirely manufactured and commercialized (don't get me started). But I respect Halloween. Everyone knows what the traditions are without all the bickering and controversy. People seem to happily participate without a lot of fuss, other than the fuss over their costumes. Trick-or-treating starts at dusk; kids show up with questionable pillow cases held out for candy deposits; parents bring their infants and toddlers and walk their young ones through the neighborhoods; a lit porch light means candy is available....It's all very simple.
In short, I love Halloween for it's ability to bring out some awesomeness in just about everyone. All it takes is a little lie with a mask to bring out some honesty. Besides, who doesn't like free candy?
Thank you, Eric Weiner.
Recently, I finished reading
The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner. Weiner worked for a decade as a journalist for NPR and then decided to explore (physically, philosophically, etc.) the happiest places in the world and their reason for being such. This was recommended to me by my dear friend, Jennah. NPR journalist + travel + happiness is a recipe for grabbing my attention.
He explores 10 regions: The Netherlands, Switzerland, Bhutan, Qatar, Iceland, Moldova (one of the least happy places in the world), Thailand, Great Britain, India, and America. I won't go on and on as if this is a book report, but this book really is a perfect balance of discovery, humor, self-exploration, philosophy, research, and travel.
There are many, many parts of this book that are thought-provoking to me, but I'll just pick 1 item for now.
Weiner writes,
...places are like time machines. They transport us back to years past. Rebecca Solnit observes, "Perhaps it's true that you can't go back in time, but you can return to the scene of a love, of a crime, of happiness, and of a fateful decision; the places are what remain, are what you can possess, are what is immortal." That's why we feel so disoriented when these touchstones from our past are altered...Landscape (the respect and preservation of it) is a very powerful thing that is so easily bulldozed in America. For me, there is an excitement when visiting a city like New York or Boston where so much from the past has been maintained and utilized in the present. It's hard to feel any connection to a new strip mall that will surely be empty and demolished within a few years, only to be built again across the street. This same excitement exists in the presence of historic sites from the civil war...to think (and feel) that the same trees and earthworks were probably there all those years ago is incredible.
Anyways...
For a long time, I thought that a strong person should be able to maintain some kind of happiness regardless of where he/she was or who he/she was with. I've decided over the past few months that this little theory is total bullshit :) What happens without is just as significant as what happens within, and they are relative. Sometimes, seemingly everything without is hellish and chaotic (work, friends, finances, etc.) while inner strength & calm remains. Sometimes, the opposite is true. And then there are times when a balance exists.
The House
I had a dream the other night about a house. It was an old, two-story like the ones in Riverside with sizeable back and side yards. In the yard was an endless amount of junk...bird fountains, statues, lounge chairs, flower pots, mosaic tiles (stuff that seemed like junk because there was so much of it cluttered throughout).
The first level of this house was where I lived; I was renting, I believe. And I hated it. More junk in every corner and open space, dirty linens, musty towels and rags bunched up on shelves (
note: a pet peeve of mine is when people leave damp towels/rags in a heap), papasan and mamasan chairs without cushions, dusty pillows, furniture everywhere. In short, it looked like a very unorganized thrift or antique store, invading every room and making it impossible to feel at home. I remember feeling frustrated because after all, this house had incredible square footage but no where to actually "live".
The second floor did not belong to me. In fact, I didn't have access to it. But somehow, I managed to scale part of the exterior, brick wall and pull myself up to peak in the window. There were no screens or glass, only a plastic dropcloth taped to the top of the sill, letting the breeze blow it around. For a moment, the breeze blew the plastic up so that I could see inside. The moment I saw inside, I felt at peace. And I had this great desire for
that space to be mine instead of the first floor. What was on this second floor? Well, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just an empty, slightly dusty large, sunny space through which the breeze could blow. I wanted to yell "Sanctuary!"
I'm not one to interpret dreams, but this one seems like a big, fat metaphor for what's been going on over the past few months. Lots of housekeeping/housecleaning with personal baggage, friendships, relationships, excess, attachment, detachment, etc. I can only assume that the 2nd floor symbolized the simplicity and openness that comes along with letting go, and I think that's why I yearned for it so much in my dream. I could go on, but I'll leave it at that.
Routines
There's this old woman who walks up and down the main strip in San Marco at night. I've seen her several times now. It is guaranteed that she will make her way to the San Marco Theatre, stand outside the main doors and peer inside at the person manning the cash register. She's always wearing the same thing: a large-floral print, button-down shirt with an ankle length navy blue skirt and loafers. Her gray hair is in a loose, low bun and her glasses sit a bit crooked on her nose. Her leathery arms are always folded. I discovered by eavesdropping at the theatre that she asks, everyday, to see a movie for free, even if it's the same movie. After all, SMT only plays one movie per night, two per day if they're feeling ambitious. So, she stands there staring at the owners until they cave in or until they outwardly deny her access.
I wonder where this woman is from, how she got here, why she always wears the same clothes, why I only see her at night, and if she has a place to stay. And she probably wonders why I'm always at the same Starbucks sketching...that is, if she even notices. She doesn't seem to see anything except for what's directly in front of her.
Over the past few months, I've become more and more curious about the bums (or those who seem like bums) around Riverside and San Marco. I see the same ones almost every day, and when I don't see them for a while, I worry that they're not alive anymore or that they've been hurt. This is especially true for the black man I see stumbling up and down Stockton, always carrying a big trash bag and wearing shoes that barely have a sole and a striped shirt that looks like it used to be gray and white horizontal stripes; now it's just brown. He's always wandering halfway in the south-bound lane, traffic having to purposefully avoid him. He worries me the most.
I have half a mind to stop and ask all those same questions I'd like to ask that woman, but things like common sense and fear stop that from happening. Still, I can't help my curiosity and my desire to know what it is they need. I'd like to photograph them and write their story, but that just seems like exploitation.
What's in your car?
After spending an evening with my dear friend, Aubree, I walked back to my car in the Town Center parking lot. As I unlocked the door, I looked in my window and realized how much stuff I have in my front and back seats; it's not necessarily valuable stuff, but stuff nonetheless and stuff that can tell a complete stranger a lot about me. Yoga mat, FTCE Professional Educator Study Guide, Starbucks cup, dog toy, sunblock, and drawing books, are just a few items.
So I have to ask, what's in
your car? What does it say about you?
Why Not?
More sketches from the past few days:
Possibilities:
I've decided to stop putting my life in a box---to scrap "the plan" and be open to other paths instead of the one I feel, most times, like I must follow because of financial obligations or personal limitations which don't actually exist. I feel like I've made this list before...maybe only in my head.
-intern at NYC MOMA for a season (assuming I apply & get accepted)
-go to graduate school to get my MFA in painting and drawing (assuming the same thing)
-enroll in the teacher certification program at M Body so that I can teach yoga
-move to Austin and do the yoga TCP @ the baptiste affiliate studio there instead of here; look into UT's MFA program
-move to NYC to teach yoga at a baptiste affiliate studio (they actually have an instructor position open)
-finish my 3rd yr. of teaching art to get my professional teaching certificate, making it easier to get a teaching job elsewhere
-go back to school and get my doctorate in physical therapy (hello, 5 yrs. of school)
-become a full-time artist traveling and selling work at various art expos/festivals
-do something in botany
-look into film school
More & More Sketches
I suppose these are from lastest to oldest. Not to say that these are "finished", but some of these look half done because people moved while I was drawing them (how dare they!). I like doing contour drawing, but it's difficult to do in a public setting because I'm not paying these people to model for me :) They could move at any instant. This is why gesture drawing is more ideal in those situations.
