2020 is taking shape and as per usual, is not what I thought it would be. It’s more interesting! Six weeks ago, I’d been in bed for a week with the flu and, as I wrote about my word for the year, vibrant, I felt anything but. But, now, after almost five weeks of living in my friend’s guest house in LA and working on a month long costuming job, I feel the bustling, buzzing, busy, and brisk energy of the word loud and clear. I feel abuzz, astir, and alive, with an upcoming trip to Africa on the horizon and creative and professional ideas percolating.
LA is what it is; inspiring, vapid, creative, and the place I repeatedly flee. I sit in my car underneath an overpass and pray there won’t be an earthquake. I watch emergency crews weave through traffic trying to respond first to an accident and I sit in traffic with everyone else on a beautiful 80 degree Saturday, trying to get to the beach.
The job goes well and I am grateful for the money and that the people are nice.
Outside the guesthouse where I am staying, my friend’s kids bounce on their trampoline and build an obstacle course out of pillows. I listen to their giggles. How lucky kids in LA are to be able to play outside at night, in February. It’s cold and snowy at home.
I have pulled back from the news once again, after feeling my energy turn dark and depressed when tuned in. I’m not sure what the answer is to that dilemma. I don’t like the feeling of hate. And yet those in control of our country bring it out. I attempt to love and find the beauty, but lately find it better to simply turn the news off. Or is it just easier?
I walk along the beach and watch the birds. The one thing I miss most when in New Mexico. Salty sea air.
The moon was just full. Magnetic and bright in a city sky that never really gets dark, but stays a sort of pink all night. I still take pictures of palm trees.
Though doing my best to stay present, to have gratitude, and to just be, I find myself once again counting down the next few days, until I head east and home once again.