Monthly Archives: November 2011

The weather has been warm. The sun shining brightly as it seems only to do in Colorado. Still, a cold wind has been blowing from the mountains, reminding of the seasons change. I drive the streets of Boulder and find that every corner seems to be claimed by sign holders. The holidays have brought them out it hordes. It is curious, I find, and slightly absurd, that opposite street corners shout such opposite messages. On one corner an old crumpled man sits bundled in his only belongings with a handmade cardboard sign. It reads “Vet, Homeless, Mentally Ill.” He looks as though he has probably been self-medicating, intoxicated, probably alcohol. Across the street a young man in ridiculous clashing articles of clothing, swings a shiny plastic sign and dances to the music playing through his earbuds. I am assuming he had earbuds in, but couldn’t actually see them… he could have very well have been enthusiastically dancing to the music in his head, in either case I question a larger idea of sanity. This young enthusiastic dancer is a paid sign holder, advertising for some company that wants to buy your gold for money! It is such an odd sight to me. One very depressed man fights for his life, while another dances for gold that he will never see. I have seen advertisements on craigslist for these sign holder positions; they pay pretty well considering. I wonder… would it not make more sense to pay the homeless man to stand there and hold a sign of a different kind?

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What to do. The storm has passed, the calm has settled in. Now I find myself filled with a new unrest… boredom’s swinging pendulum. From one extreme to the next; from too much to do to now too little. I wonder, is there a place, a happy blissful place, between these two extremes? Is there a balance of just enough to fill your plate and keep you busy and not so busy as to cause unneeded stress? Or is this life? A fight for balance and happiness that may only be achieved in heartbeats, short moments, that pass. A storm that has only moments of calm. Maybe I must learn to cling to these blissful moments, enjoy their nectar knowing that tomorrow I will wake up hungry again. Maybe this unrest, dissatisfaction, is a necessary fuel that pushes me forward into creativity and new ways of thinking.Maybe this is already a balance, a balance not found in stillness but instead in movement. An ebb and flow like the ocean and her tides, not a rock carefully. My life is one of movement, of travel and exploration. These are the things that bring me happiness. So, why do I seem so eager to settle into a sedentary balance? Maybe, just maybe, I will embrace this unrest as all part of my bigger balance.

The snow is melting. The last storm has passed and the forecast seems clear. A cool wind blows from the east across the mountains. Winter is here; the skies are a pale blue, cloudless. One week after my fundraiser and my life begins to settle… just a bit. I feel the strong desire to hibernate. To join the bears in their quest for that last bit of food before crawling into their caves to take a long deep sleep and let the coldness pass. I spend my nights by a warm fire. It crackles and a sweet smoke perfumes the air. I spend lots of time with a warm mug of tea or coffee filling my hand.

Time… just a few weeks ago it felt like it was spinning wildly out of control. I woke up this morning unsure of what day it was. Time seems to have slowed, to cool and freeze like the water. In Colorado, Winter is obvious. But I remember my LA winters, a rainy season instead of snow. I loved the rain… the smell, the sound, the way the night lights bounced off the glossy streets. There are something about the seasons, real seasons, all four seasons, that Colorado brings… transitions. This is a time to slow, to preserve resources, to gather strength, to plot for future travel, to hermit and hibernate. Winter is a time of stillness and reflection… I am ready for the next year. Until then, I will withdraw a little bit, preserve my strength, find my stillness, reflect, and wait for the warmth of spring to pull me from my cocoon.

The fundraiser is over and I wish I could say the storm has passed; it has not. I feel the tip of the iceberg pushing onward cold and heavy and determined.

My fundraiser event was successful. I define success in many ways. The event was sold out: success. There were more people in attendance that I did NOT know than people I knew: success. The food was wonderful and the music enjoyable: success. Donations were made and photographs sold: success. It was fun: success. Perhaps the biggest success of all, people were truly impacted by my project, describing it as evocative, passionate, haunting and inspiring. While I will admit the fundraiser was to raise money so I may continue with this project… the true reward is in knowing that the work I am doing has an impact on the people it touches: SUCCESS!

The last week has been stressful and the stress continues to heavy its burden. I was in a small car accident last Friday. I hit some black ice on my way home. I live in the mountains on one of the steepest roads in CO. It was late and dark and with one wrong turn coming around a curve, I ended up loosing control and driving my car into a tree. I am lucky. I am okay, no one else was involved, and my friend just happened to be driving behind me so I was not stranded in the middle of nowhere, late at night in the cold without cell phone service. I am lucky! I will remind myself again. But now, I begin the struggle of car repairs, insurance and accident claims, rental cars, and some minor PTSD.

On top of this, my dad was admitted to the hospital this morning for an abscess on his liver. He has been in pain for the last few weeks going to his doctor for series of tests all turning up negative. He felt like he was going crazy. Was it all in his head? Finally the tests came back with something conclusive and my dad was to be admitted the next morning. Somewhere between the time of the test and the middle of the night list night, the abscess doubled in size and my dad had to be admitted early through the ER. They are currently trying to figure out what the abscess is and why it’s there.

I also have an art show coming up next weekend. I am supposed to be pulling stuff together for this. I feel completely overwhelmed. I feel like I am loosing my mind… setting down a cup of water and not remembering where I set it just a moment ago. Feeling at moments like I just want to cry because there is just too much going on and I have absolutely no control. I have no control… eh! What was I doing? What was I saying? What I am supposed to be working on? Where am I going? I am forgetful, my plate too full, trying to keep up with classes, work, the stresses of life, my puppy, and also make time for myself. I have been pushed hard by these stresses. Yet, one thing keeps coming to mind… never having dealt with mental illness myself, I feel a new appreciation and compassion for the hardship that must come with the varying degrees of this illness. How do you ask for help? Where do you find the support? It is such an internal battle of things that only you can see, only you can handle, only you can deal with, so how do you vocalize these things? How do you ask for what you need? Despite this hardship, I am so appreciative for this insight… into myself and into the work that I do with this project.

While these weeks have been hard and will continue to be hard into the near future, I remain optimistic. I am reminded and continue to remind myself:

“THIS TOO SHALL PASS.”