I can honestly say I like who I see, when I see my shadow looking back at me.

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

“Never Stop Smiling!”

~ Elderly gentleman to me in passing, while walking around the

historic and eclectic Fairfax Avenue area of Los Angeles.

April 3, 2010

(What he actually said was, “You have a beautiful smile. Never stop smiling!”)

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

I write because all my life I’ve felt I had some indescribable connection to something beyond what I can see, hear, taste, feel and know. Writing ~ creativity, actually, is often an outlet for reaching toward that connection in an attempt to gain understanding. Writing is the avenue I travel as I seek to know myself intently and intimately, a way to place my faults and fears and mistakes and accomplishments on paper ~ a self-portrait with words. Seeing those fears and mistakes and things that hold me back give me the courage to move forward. Writing is my way to pass along what I’ve learned, what I’ve gained, to someone else: hope, encouragement, dreams, stumbles and missteps and climbs and back and forths toward something I sense is there for me but am still learning to obtain, accept and welcome with open arms. I thought I was on course, in tune with the Universe, and had something to say. Then something happened and it didn’t mesh with my illusion of that beautiful, simple, spiritual connection. And I realize that for all the things I know and believe in and am so enthusiastically wanting to share, I know nothing. And right now, I’ve simply got nothing to say.

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

Summer Breeze . . . Makes Me Feel FINE!

Seals & Crofts – Summer Breeze Live 1973 Midnight Special

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

Today I honor all the wonderful women in my life.

The one I was born to and the ones I was born with, who get me for who I am and encourage with love and honesty though I don’t always make sense.

The one who recognizes me most of the time, but is most intimately connected when she is confused by reality and speaks in metaphor.

The one who yesterday took one look at my face, figured I was having a bad day and offered me a healing session on the spot. I don’t even know her name.

And the ones who have traveled with me through the years, whether it be two or twenty or twenty times two. Through the good and the bad and the silly and the just plain stupid, your love keeps the flame of friendship alive through time and distance and things that just happen. Because that’s what friends do, and that’s what life does sometimes. It just happens.

Thank you all. I love you dearly, and I wish you a beautiful day.

Ya’ll are just so cool, you deserve it.

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

Exactly two months ago today I landed in LA, and exactly one month ago today, I left LA. Happy anniversary to me.

Before I’d even given notice at work, informed the landlord I was moving, or packed the first box, I told myself that I’d look at this as a sort of experiment, that nothing needs to be taken too seriously and that there are no right or wrong choices here. All I knew then was that I was certain I had to move back to Los Angeles.

Well, right now I can say with certainty that I can’t say a damn thing with certainty. LA was the plan, the obsession, for the past 16 years and now here I am, plopped 80 miles north in a small Southern California town nestled in the mountains at the base of the Los Padres National Forest where I came knowing pretty much exactly no one.

Instead of falling asleep to the sound of helicopters, buses and late night neighbors, I crack the window so I can hear owls, and frogs, and coyotes. Instead of fulfilling an obsession that’s as old as most of my friends’ children, (and just as nurtured through the years I might add) I’ve somehow veered off course toward something that is a little bit more out of my control than I am used to acknowledging.

And you know what? I think I like it. I’ve tried so hard for so long to control things, to keep them in order, to put them where I want them to be, and it really hasn’t worked very well. Because I’m increasingly of the belief that we are spiritual beings here on earth to have a human experience ~ not the other way around, I’ve decided to tweak the experiment  ~ sort of hand the reins over and give in to this natural flow. I’m going to continue to watch as one road leads to another, leads to another, leads to another . . .  and see where it goes.

It’s a bit of a different mindset for me because it’s the first time that my heart and my soul have been a little at odds: my heart misses the ease of meeting people in LA, the feeling that I’m comfortable in my own skin there, the idea that LA is where I belong. At times I want to bolt. My soul, on the other hand, keeps whispering, no. Stay here. You will see. When you know about the history and beliefs of this valley, it’s not hard to believe that in some psychic sense, I’ve come home.

It’s not all been easy, though I am finding it difficult explain. What I can say is this: There is an undercurrent of energy that runs through me like a river, and if I have to name, it, I call it fear. I am fearful. I have felt it for years. And it has held me back. And I have totally screwed up.

I’ve lived in fear’s house, worn its clothes, slept in its bed, and raised its babies. I’ve drunk it, eaten it, bathed in its waters, soaked in its rays, and buried myself in its soil. I realized yesterday just how easy it has been to let it manipulate me. I realized today just how well I’ve been able to use it to protect myself. From what?

From LIFE.

I know full well that you can’t live out loud if you’re scared to live, and I don’t mean moving across country and taking risks and being independent. Those are important too, but what I’m talking about is being courageous enough to stop all the psychic, intellectual and physical movement and really be in the moment with yourself  ~ just yourself . . . no food, no alcohol, no blankie, no exercise, no work. No excuses. Alone. In the moment. Psychically raw, spiritually naked. And like it.

And from there, to be in the moment with someone else.

For me, doing that means giving up some ghosts, so to speak. It means I’ve got to finally quite waiting for the other shoe to drop, I’ve got to allow myself to be vulnerable and unguarded, I’ve got to forget what I learned as a kid over 40 years ago ~ that nothing is permanent ~ and embrace people into my life as though they will be there forever, fate be damned.

Because if I don’t, I’ll keep them just far enough away that I’ll continue to live as though I am alone.

And while I can’t say much right now, I can finally say one thing with certainty.

I no longer want that.

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

Tonight’s full moon is the Gathering Moon.

Time to celebrate all we have accomplished.

Set intentions for the coming spring.

And recognize our own personal achievements and advancements.

This is good for me.

Because I find too often that my own inner guide still bends to the other, my own worst critic.

Time for that to stop.

The bitch needs to go.

Surrounded by mountains and sky and hoot owls and coyotes, I think I know, maybe, why I am here.

I thought the big city landscape was the territory I needed to brave.

Survive that, conquer that, and I am whole.

I thought.

Turns out it is the still uncharted territory inside that calls to be explored.

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.

Yesterday I felt compelled to spend the better part of a beautiful Saturday washing the hardwood floors and windows, dusting mini blinds, sweeping the deck and doing laundry. Today I think my spirit is doing a bit of cobweb clearing too. I’ve pretty much given in to a silly little crying jag that started in a dream and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. In the center of my chest is a stabbing feeling ~ like something is gone and is ripping my heart out with it. A couple of times it’s had me doubled over, gut-wrenching, wracked, a good kind of cry. From down deep somewhere, whatever has left or is on its way out is leaving because the time has come for it to go.

A friend asked me over coffee a few days ago what I wanted to do with my photography now that I’m in Southern California. The answer I gave is that I really don’t know. As an artist or creator or whatever, shouldn’t I have an answer for that? It would be sweet to be in a gallery or two, and heck, I’d love to sell more of my prints online, but I’m not sure those two things alone completely fuel the fire. I once didn’t take a job as a photographer’s assistant because the woman told me she wasn’t it in to make “pretty pictures” and did it strictly for the money. Eh, I kinda need more than that.

His simple and honest question haunts me. There is more to my answer than that I just don’t know. The truth is, I’m kinda winging it right now. I mean, I did move to LA, and then Ojai, more on a whim than a plan, right? I’m figuring out stuff all the time. I don’t know exactly where I’m going with this but I do know that I don’t need to beat myself up for not having it all laid out on paper just yet. Something is swirling around and taking shape and building form and in its present stages already is something I could not have come up with on my own. So whatever’s going on inside today, this little bit of cleansing and making space, I’m going to just go with it.

So no big blog today, ok? Just a really cool little ditty that’s my new fav song from the all too awesome Rob Thomas. Now excuse me, because this song today, makes me wanna cry.

©2010 the orange chair. All Rights Reserved.