Shed my skin

This is my first blog post in seven years.  Seven has always been a lucky number. I guess snakes shed their skins, entirely rejuvenated, every seven years. Seven years itch, too, right? Splintered and glowing, seven years have flown right by me.

A little more than seven years ago, I moved to LA.  When reading my last post, I see that I wasn't having the easiest go of it. I seemed a little bit more than lost, though the constants continued to find me.

I only browsed the surface in reading back. It's all there, stream of conscious ramblings, and there it will stay. It's my story and it's stuck to me. I'm happy to have found it, actually stumbling on to it this morning, surprised the words ever existed in the first place.  And now, relinking to that past as I keep moving forward... reawakening the beast, it's innocence, sleeping peacefully all these years in it's bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed-just-moved-to-LA-following-a-dream-kind-of-way- is remarkably sweet and lovely to me now. And part of me thinks- awww, how cute. So much I didn't know. And so much I had to learn.

And back to gratitude.

Seven years later, and I think I've gotten exactly what I've needed through my time here. I'm grateful for every drop of it, because every unanswered phone call, or attempt at connection, let me to find a different connection, and follow every single path that propelled me through the pink-pong pinball-bumpers, bounced left and right to figure out the direction I'd be forced to take, to turn, and to evolve.

So here I sit, 7 in the morning because sleep is taken in doses, like medicine, resigning to it when I need it and pushing it away when my brain discovers a long-ignored blog. Here I sit, 7 in the morning, ready to take on another chapter, my new skin ready to crawl with goosebumps inspired by the next steps, whatever they are and wherever they take me.  Here I sit at 7 am, loving the fact that when you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose. I've given LA everything I had. I'm grateful for my lessons, my friendships, my soul being found, finding myself among the angels- literally translated los angeles- and that's what I have gotten in exchange for pursuing my dream of moving here.

I've been given so much more than I bargained for. All I wanted to do, I've done. What I didn't have the foggiest notion I wanted to do when I got here, I've done. 

I've done.  And now it feels like time to go home.

I am open to the tide turning me back to my roots, following a yellow brick road back through the woods, across mountains and stretches of desert and nothing and ocean and past the gradual evolution to the most beautiful majestic oldest trees.

Gonna try to drive back to Oreogn- to make it there for the holidays, to spend Thursday around the table with the people I love most in this world.

I can't wait to get there. 

I've been to Oz, I've met wizards and lions and tigers and bears, and tin-men, and scared crows, and witches- good and bad ones- and the tallest munchkins and the shortest giants. The man behind the curtain continues to astonish me, and the words in my heart will carry me through space and time til Thursday and beyond and beyond and beyond again. Infinite Thursdays through this one. Life in a day, in a moment, in a nanosecond. Life. Every breath holds the opportunity for such overwhelming beauty. My vision of that is sitting around a table surrounding by my sweetest family who I love more than anything. I can not wait to get there.

I've said it before, I'll say it again, and every time, it's more true than the last.

There's no place like home.




There.  I did it.  I felt like writing, so I did.

Exceptional

So I moved to LA with this thought that I could part the waters with my ability and smile. I came down here thinking there were tons of jobs and I'd make friends immediately, that I'd be fine within a month or two. I've only been here for a few weeks, but as an update, the seas haven't parted yet, I still don't have a job, I haven't started from scratch in getting to know people for as long as I can remember and so far, this is really hard.

I brought Joe, my 13 year old dog and Marty, my 7 year old cat down here, too. Joe hasn't lived without a dog door for 7 years. I didn't realize how often he has to go out. So for the last 2 weeks when I'm used to getting a full night's sleep, I've napped. I've napped, and that's just about all I want to do during the day cause I'm so tired. Marty's cat hair gets everywhere, he wants to scratch and chew on things- wooden things. I hear other cats outside fighting at night and so I don't want to let him go out there and come back like the one-eyed neigbhor cat. So these guys are not necessarily adjusting perfectly to LA life either.

I am trying to join the union- hoping for a letter from an ex-boss this week. I'm applying for every job I can find. I'm trying to go out on my own and explore. I've instead been making up for lost sleep, continuously trying to clean up my house, waiting to see what happens every day and being surprised when the answer is not much. I know 'try' is an excuse for do, I know I've got to make it happen. I know there's a world out there waiting for me to take advantage of it. I guess I'm writing right now cause I felt like it and I'm feeling like taking on the world is hard, at least for today.

I'm hoping I can make the seas part in the morning... I'll keep you posted.

You never forget your first time

I'm a 37 year old woman. So far in my life, I've been lucky enough to see a show of some sort at most iconic music venues across the US. A few have eluded me- the Roxy and the Fox in Atlanta, the Opera in Santa Fe, NM, and I'm sure there are hundreds of theaters that if I knew about how cool they were, I'd add them to this list. But I don't know them, so I don't know what I'm missing. There will always be more.

Tonight, though, I got to cross a big one off of my list... the legendary Hollywood Bowl. Since I moved to LA a few months ago, I've been scheming about which show would be my first there. I was all ready to try for a double night whammy of John Mayer and Dave Matthews Band, sentimental, rockin' and memorable, but ended up on Phish tour, thus was out of town for my big plans. Pink Martini is there in a week or so, so I considered that after enjoying them at the Oregon Zoo last week. But today, at 5pm, my good friend Bart offered me his spare ticket to tonight's Herbie Hancock 70th Birthday Celebration Concert. I had no idea what I was getting into: didn't know where the seats were, didn't know who was playing, didn't know what I'd be hearing (didn't have a clue). Not knowing how lucky I was to being on the receiving end of this offer, I am so thankful I said yes.


I like that you can't see the venue from Highland Avenue. Unless you've seen photos, imagination doesn't do the scale of the venue justice. It's massive yet somehow maintains intimacy and a feeling of personal experience. Once you make it through Highland traffic and arrive at the entrance to the Hollywood Bowl, you drive in and park in lines- one car stacked after another, 5 rows wide, 20 cars long. "It's part of the Bowl Culture," says Bart. I laugh outloud, cause seriously there's nothing you can do to avoid this clusterf*ck. You commit and stay for the long haul. There's no alternative, so the best option is to laugh about it, park and find a glass of wine.

We arrived a few minutes after 8p. The show had started, but because my concert companion rocks, he showed no stress while waiting for me as I wrangled red wine and sweet potato fries (best concert treats ever). Box seats he said. Following to the first entrance, though the pearly gates and into magic. Stage to the right was lit up. To the left, seats as far back as I could barely see and two spots beamed overhead, illuminating a masterpiece being played on stage.

There aren't too many moments in life that I can't think about anything else but this: "I'll never forget this feeling/ moment/ experience/ energy for as long as I live" but that was all I could think as I took it in. Overjoyed as we walked to our seats, perfectly centered and close in, geeking out with the jazz pros, we found our way through the dark to perfection.

Like I said earlier, the venue has great juju. The energy in the space is tangible and the stage radiates with luminescentsy glow- impossible to duplicate shimmers of pinks, greens and blues. Perhaps that's due to the proximity you feel to the people in your box... new friends after a few notes. Perhaps it's because you can so clearly see the people in your area or hear even their whispers so closely. The audience tonight seemed to be composed of (mostly older) musical/ jazz geeks. They knew the value of a ticket and paid willingly. Sometimes it's a grateful audience that can make all the difference.

I feel like I owe it to you to list the musicians in case you know of them- Alex Acuna on drums and percussion, Terence Blanchard on trumpet, Paulinho da Costa percussion, Jack DeJohnette on drums, Zakir Hussain on tabla, Juanes singing, Niladri Kumar on sitar, Wayne Shorter on sax, Esperanza Spalding (HOLY SMACK) on bass, Derek Trucks guitar, Susan Tedeschi singing, Debbie Allen Dance Company dancing for a number, Vinnie Colaiuta drumming, Lionel Loueke on guitar, Pino Palladino on bass, Greg Phillanganes (don't know what he did, but it was fantastic), Kristin Train singing her arse off ("Imagine", "Don't Give Up" background vocals and more I've forgotten), India Arie singing ("Imagine") and an Irish woman singing ("Times are a Changing") but sadly I've forgotten her name. I don't know the man's name who sang 'A Change is Gonna Come' but it was fantsatic, too.

Bobbing, tapping, chair dancing, air drumming, leg playing joy. Tonight I got to witness an incredible concert and got to experience a first. I love the firsts and will figure out ways every day to continue to have them. Firsts keep life fresh and new. They give your brain a reward for you efforts, great and small. Our senses need to be reminded how exciting it is to try new things and tonight, I got to give my senses a workout of all-news.

I dig, I dig.

Please send me suggestions (via email or comments) to add to my list of 'must visit before I can't any more' venues. I'll take any excuse to travel to new places. Rewarding your senses is soul pleasing so I'm going to do it as often as I can for the rest of my life.

Spontaneous Phish Tour is coming to a close

So I was only going to go to the Greek and Telluride. Then Robin said, 'How about Deer Creek?' So we went. And Johnny said, 'How about Alpine Valley?' So we went. And Dana said, 'I'm writing to convince you to come to Jones Beach.' So I came to Jones Beach. This is the eve of the last show and oh my what a summer adventure this was.

Summer 2010 is the 15th anniversary of my first (almost full- minus Jones Beach and Memphis...) full Summer Phish tour. In said summer of 95, I had been handed a fresh degree, had decided to switch coasts and move to Oregon, knew I loved a band that made me dance like a crazy girl and was wide eyed to opening the door to adventure, knocking loudly at my chamber door. My heart pounded night after night as new thoughts, friends, worlds opened up to me. I was aware of how good life was then. I lived in the moment without even trying, some nights having tickets in the 15th row, some having lawn in a galaxy far away. But I danced and smiled and loved my choice to go.

Strangely, now 15 years later, I'm having the same experience. Older, yes, wiser, I think so. Same spirit in a body that's finding it's movement again. I've recently left Oregon to pursue my film career in LA. I've separated myself from people and things I love because leaving is hopefully smarter than staying. But the music and adventure... going without knowing I was supposed to go. No plans, no agenda, just playing it by ear and letting it happen. I had to let my summer take me away, and this summer, my mind took me on a walk across the country. New places to explore (and some old ones- but this time I had better seats), old and new people to meet, new songs to interpret and understand, new dance moves that are making me stronger every night. I'm finding myself again. I missed myself and now here I am, doing what makes me feel better than almost anything else.

Tonight I had seats in the rafters. I've been spoiled in recent years to get up closer than I ever was brave enough to go (since Summer 95!) and got to watch the boys smile and dance and play and bob and work their magic. The seats up so high gave me a perspective that I needed. A reality check of how many of us there are out there loving Phish right now. Of how beautiful it is to watch the moon rise, or the lights spell out Phish's name in a giant rainbow, or how miraculous that the fans seem to breathe in unison. Tonight I dodged ticket police, I stood in the aisle and surrendered my booty for the goodness of my life being saved by rock and roll. We shared in the final Weekapaug Groove of the summer and will remember to sleep diagonal in my bed tonight. I know why I'm not crazy for doing spontaneous Phish tour. We all have to do what makes us happy. Phish shows are my happiest place. So I go.

Leap and the net will appear, they say.

Go dance for us, cause we have to stay.

But Kelly, you're not 16 any more.

And financially, can you afford it? You're sure?

Why do you have to go night after night?

Why can't Berkeley and Telluride be alright?

Chasing the unicorns, dancing a dream,

Skipping through airports, friends on the team.

Phishbelly strikes, overwhelming energy

anticipates musicaian and crowd pleasing synergy

Finding my voice and my smile as I move

through space time continuum, finding my groove.

The years have combined, split open and melt

and I'm happier now than I remember I've felt.

Three cheers for the rhythm and rock of the band,

The music they make and precision, demand,

I'm proud I love Phish and have grown up at shows,

and I'm psyched that 'to go' was the decision I chose.

Happy One more night of Summer Tour, everybody.

Really, SO GLAD COVENTRY WAS NOT THE END.

Yahoo Summer 1995, I mean 2010.

I hope to see you again soon.

If the canyon walls could talk

It's been a while, but it feels like time again.

I'm living in Los Angeles and have been finding myself in Canyons- pushing through hot, ouch, what the heck am I doing and why am I here. These hikes have gotten me out of my house and out of by brain as I'm job searching and getting settled. I'm diggin' it here because it had been way too long since I challenged myself. No offense Portland, but Lori is right. After 15 years of living in your fair city limits, you became a Velvet Rut.

My fingers are dug into the dirt and I'm taking a 'short-cut' from the canyon floor up a hill that connects to a switch back slower ascent up the canyon. This shortcut, from the floor, looks like a climb, yes, but doesn't look that steep. Moments earlier I decided to try it and right now, I am finding myself gripping on to dried out dirt clods and loose grasses and clay falling out of my fingers and down the incline, already too far up and too determined to turn back. Finding my ego but also my confidence in a situation probably best left to people who have actually done this before.

But people who have done this before had to do this for a first time, right?

This whole LA adventure- moving here, leaving Joe dog and Marty cat, friends, ironically a beautifully remodeled house, family and friends- in all of it- I'm digging my claws in, grasping for dirt and making it up the hill.

As I'm climbing, I see 2 guys and a dog in my peripheral vision, cause I'm not looking back down. And a dog. The dog is bounding up the hill, stops to check me out, then keeps going. The 2 guys check in with me, too... 'Are you doing ok?' Feeble yes. Obligatory smile. I say, 'I've never done this before'. They, 'Runyon or this hill?' Either one ha ha ha nervously. 'It's all about confidence. Take steps and dig in. You can do it. You just have to go for it.'

So I do. And they were right. I made it up, in the end, a little bit bloody from a close encounter with a dead tree limb, stuck with burs that will probably never come out of my favorite yoga pants, panting, smiling and covered in LA dirt. But I did it. And honest to goodness, the smile that came from digging in and telling myself I could and then actually making it work, that's what this adventure is all about.

I am thankful to be finding myself in Los Angeles.

What heals us?

The question came in to my brain today while I was working and tonight, now, I have time to ramble about it. If part of us aches, we try to make it better. Could be an advil, could be a turkey burger from Burgerville, could be a smile from a child or a lick from a dog. We all ache and I think part of our journey in life is to figure out what it is in life that makes us feel better again.

These aches- these pains that are associated with so much pain--- where did they come from? From age, yes. From love, yes. From fear, sadness, glory and emotion, yes. Growing pains begin the day you are born and I don't think they end until the day you leave this earth.

I always thought that growning older would mean that life would get easier. For some reason, I thought that the hardest stuff happened in those awkward moments at school, or Flo Bailyn's cotillian, or in fights with big brother over who told mom what. I somehow imagined life as an adult would be easier- I'd have a partner to face any battle with, but didn't even think that far--- never imagined battles. I thought my glamourous job would be a walk in the park... but probably didn't think that far either. I just didn't think that grown up life would be tivo and paint chips and dry rot and cancer and fires and rabies shots for pets hoping to travel overseas.

These aches and pains- and glories and sadnessess--- these are the manifestation of life's greatest gift- of existence- of consciousness and living- and feeling and doing--- did too much and now my knee hurts. Loved so much that now my heart hurts. Got so excited to play with fire that now I'm burned. That's life.

There aren't many problems that dog licks don't help at least a little bit. Phone calls with mom help more. Friends help leaps and bounds, too. Strangely, I'm more thankful now for my skinned knees, or tears shed or joint laughter (I mean when 2 friends laugh together- not wrist pops talking to you) cause those are the life in life. Those things make and keep us real. The healing part happens between the injuries. The built endurance and character developed getting from hurt to healed is where the life happens and where the real us-es.... all of us... become our truest selves.

As Joe snores and the tv glow buzzes, I say sleep well, everyone. Thanks for reading. Glad the moment happened.

There. I felt like writing, so I did.

Consuming

Ok, so I feel like the writer me is gently oozing back into myself- my brain, my body, my fingers, my consciousness. Whatever it is, why ever I feel like it, wherever this voice is that has to be heard by someone, somewhere, here it goes.

I just spent two weeks in mind-blowing Maui. I'm ready to spend 365 days there squeezing dirt and hanging with chickens, lettuces and avocado trees. I loved it there. I loved the sun that said hello every day and left me with pinkish-brown kissed cheeks. I loved the giant sea turtles that blessed me with their presence when I happened to paddle-meander into their chosen coral reefs. I loved the sunrises that I woke up to every morning and the sunsets that helped me say goodbye to the amazing days that came before them. Maui. Maui Maui Maui. Maui on my brain.

One of the lessons I learned there in Maui was that after dragging toppling suitcases through the airport and squeezing their contents into the convertible (not easy with 2 over-eager packing princesses in a 2 bag trunk space) was that I didn't need that much at all. At all. Never carried a purse, instead made the camera bag my purse. It had zippers- all I needed. I wore tank tops and swim suits, my same pair of shorts every day, and yes, I had my 'dress up' nights, but overall, I only needed a fraction of what I took. As I thought about that, I reflected on ALL the crap that encompasses my life suitcase and man oh man it's overflowing. I've got more clothes than I will ever wear out in my lifetime. It's so rare that I wear anything thin (side for my favorite pairs of socks- they never seem to last long enough) that I am trying to turn around my consuming habits as of last week.

I go in to stores now, but do it more to look and see what's there. And strangely, the first thought that I'm thinking when I pick up another beautiful hoody is 'I don't need this in Maui.' I saw a gorgeous watch as I was just flipping through my 15th catalog in the pile that acrued while I was on island, and yep, time doesn't matter on Maui. Still trying to unpack everything I took- haven't washed yet, haven't folded, still in suitcase, but I don't feel like I even want to put it away.

Have you heard of Saturn Return? Hippy dippy introspective stuff, but the jist is that, based on 7 year cycles, our soul's energy goes up and down through life-- big years being the multiples of 7. I think I heard about this in my 26-27 year. Big crunch, that time between 28-30. Who the heck am I- what am I doing- how do I do it- where do I go- what do I do definition squeezing role playing understanding self stuff. I turned 35 in March. This year has been a tricky one for me (aren't they all?) but this one feels a little bit different. I feel like I'm allowing myself to become my truest self. I'm enjoying people I love, I'm doing what works for me, I'm making choices for myself. Hoping this doesn't sound selfish- but acknowledging that to some it will. It's hard to not feel like putting yourself or your needs first is a bad thing, but right now, I feel like that's what I should be doing. I want to give myself the space and permission to become what I've always referred to as the 'super-me'. To paint if I feel so inspired, to cook, to swim, to diet, to dance, to sing, to spend time alone, to spend time in a mob, to find my voice when I feel like I should use it--- all things that some people figured out a long long long time ago--- just not me. I feel like I'm liberating myself- like I've got a key and I sneak in to find myself in a bird-cage, and I'm saying 'go on! spread your wings! fly fly!' Staying right here for now, but it feels pretty good.

A big part that sounds ridiculous, is that I'm acknowledging to the whole wide world and smiling about it, is yes, I am probably a hippie. I'm a hippie that loves my sassy black shoes that have heels- I'm a hippie that wears lipstick and sometimes digs fashion magazines. I'm a walking contradiction much of the time, but whatever, we all are. But yes, beneath it all, put me in the garden of eden, let me run around in hot tubs with flowers in my hair, I'm a hippie.

Yahoooooooooo!

I digress.

As Journey would sing, I'm feeling the joy of rediscovering myself. I want to figure out what works and what doesn't... let the rest sluff off, sifted through the fine mesh web of choices and make decisions that I'll look back on with pride and a great big smile. It feels fantastic and I'm glad I finally made it here.

There. I felt like writing, so I did.

words

Now that I'm attaching this website address to emails I'm sending out, I guess it's time I step it up and write. This is not new- this blog thing- I've enjoyed doing in the past, at other sites, but this site is relatively newish. I try not to censor myself, I try to comment on what seems relavent, to me at least, and I try to not have fear in putting it out there.

This post is dedicated to being a goofball. To ending arguments before they begin because you don't want to have one to begin with. To king sized heath bars. To the way Joe snores. To Indian Flowered gold nose-rings. To a great tooth brush that reaches the places normal tooth brushes can't. To courage. To floating in the sky. To facebook as a great connector. To a cell phone that actually keeps a charge. To uploading clips in high resolution that play smoothly, beautifully, and well. To digital free basic cable! To the days of road trips and pie summits. To dances under the moon to the best music i've ever heard. To util-i-kilt man. To friends old and new. To solar power, wind power, recycling water, healing the earth and the oceans. To cool summer days that don't go above 70. To hot summer days that now make me appreciate the cool ones. To flowers and bees and seeds.

But not to the fruit flies! Damn fruit flies.

There. I felt like writing so I did.

Al says some good stuff...

He's not making it up. It's what we all need to be doing. It's how we need to be doing it.

I apologize for videos being taken down from youtube that I've posted links to here. I just don't have time to keep up with them all... but this is what our movie is about... changes we need to make right now.

Listen to it in the background if you don't have time to watch...

Video #2- this one's more intense...

Conway videos from 2007 up and running!

I want a hug!

Dancing makes the world better, happier, come together...

I've been posting things to my facebook page, but I think it's time to start back to posting here as well. I hope you're wonderful, whoever you are, wherever you are. Happy day to you and it's one here, too.

It's not always easy, but it's always worth it

So tonight I'm thinking about life in the mindset of total honesty. And with that...
I'm sitting with my computer on my lap, it's one in the morning, watching dancing with the stars on my laptop and i've been carbo-loading in prep for this activity. I just watched the cute bubbley diva from "Hairspray" have a melt-down in rehearsals for her big dance. Seeing this made me come to the conclusion that for at least a lot of us, life isn't always easy. Some make it look easier than others. Some slide across the dance floor without even hearing the music. Others listen so intensely that they can't even think to move. I'm realizing that I've had it easy for such a long time. I've been so lucky, and still have my luck when it comes to getting the best parking spots at the grocery store, and that I ended up on the floor to watch Obama's Portland Rally... but you know what? I can't always be the lucky one. There are many people in the world who have earned their luck, too. I say that, cause I think it's not always given, and it's not always earned, and it's not always random. Sometimes it's none, sometimes is all... I'm still watching the dancing and am feeling distracted, so I'm rambling, but not gonna edit. Words for the world, for none or for all.

Even though I didn't get a job I thought I'd get today, I still feel really lucky. I feel like I've got the most amazing family in the whole world and am in love with the same man after three years together. That feels like luck, but we've earned it, too. Luck is the family part.

I'm proud to be 35 and a day, proud and lucky. Earning the grey and the wrinkle, earning the sunny days as much as trying to gain understanding for the rainy ones.

With love

Whatever it is, it's time

For whatever reason, I've stopped writing. I write lots of emails, I'm just starting to journal again, but I lost my writing mojo for more than a year now. Now I'm trying to get it back.

My resolution for the new year was to move forward, in whatever direction feels good to me- my goal is just to move towards what feels good. This thought has given me a lot of clarity. I've been in a relationship that has faced many challenges. Life has seemed to be full of those challenges- financially, mentally, physically, emotionally. But you know what? To get past them, it takes movement... like dancing, or running, or pushing through whatever seems to suck at the moment, and making it better, however that can happen. Dude, the treadmill's movement can be intoxicating. And a movement in a piece of classical music can transcend space and time... but whatever, I'm rambling.

Movement.

So just now, I felt like writing, so I did.