My love for the place.

I never really hear silence where I live, because I live right by the 5S freeway. I think if there was silence, I'd feel uncomfortable. Unsafe almost. Which is kind of sad, considering meditation in silence makes you a better person and all that.

I am remembering last year at this time. The curly vines of summertime were stretching their way around my consciousness, making me itchy for the coming months. I craved lakes and rivers, hiking and camping, cookouts and poolside memories. This year, however, I cannot crave those things because I am not returning to Wisconsin until the fall.

There are a number of reasons why I am not going this year, breaking my five year pattern of visiting every summer. The main reason, of course, is work. Leaving my students would put me out an extra 600 dollars if I took the week off. ( I can't reschedule that many kids.) But there is also another reason I am not going, and it's tugging at me, making me uncomfortable.

It's my love for the place.

I have spent the past two years building my life up. I have built my own career, which is blossoming at this point, found a quiet little nook in Capo to settle in, and have decently kept up my friendships and relationships the best I've known how. I am truly happy. But there is still that familiar pang of missing somewhere just enough to make me feel uncomfortable sometimes.

And I just don't need to tempt myself to feel antsy again. Not this summer, anyway.

I'm a little more country than that.

Crap. I just wrote six paragraphs and deleted them because I realized I sounded like a child. Ranting and raving about first loves and country music, strawberry wine and sunsets over cornfields, walks along lakes in the twilight, and George Strait playing the soundtrack to my first love.

I think country music is somewhat detrimental to my emotional state of mind. And yet the relationship I hold with it is addicting. I can't let it go. I just can't.

Early Spring has never been so evident. My house is covered in butterfly cocoons, and they're all starting to come out of their little nesting places. It is a truly amazing thing to have watched them these past few months. They started off as sixty or seventy caterpillars infesting the outside of the house. After a few weeks, they made their little homes, and now... they are breaking away right in front of my eyes. It's the most incredible metamorphosis I have ever witnessed. The only problem is my kitty Cosmo. He's a true hunter at heart, and he can't help himself. The few cocoons that were attached to my deck have already been torn down by him :(

The beginning of my blogging adventure.

I have always wanted to start a blog, ever since I was sixteen. The problem was, I have always felt like I haven't had much to say. Now, however, looking at my life, I realize there is almost too much to say, and so I have decided to pursue my blogging desire.

I am a musician, a young one, living alone by the beach. My mother moved to Texas a couple of years ago, and I have been supporting myself ever since. I have to say, it's quite liberating to do what I love and make money from it. Isn't that the ultimate goal? That, and the goal of success of course. But what is success? It is only the expansion of happiness, is it not?

I have been through quite a few disastrous relationships in the past few years, which, i believe, makes me more interesting. I have seen into the relationship pit of hell, and I've come back completely alive. I once heard that musicians don't make for good mates. They're selfish, stuck in their own heads, and hardly driven. I however, strive to be the opposite of this. How well I am doing, however, I can't honestly say. I can only say I am trying.


Last week I was thinking about where I'd like to go.If I ever had the opportunity, of course. I thought about Australia, because I have heard the beaches there are incredible. Or Europe, because I'd like to fulfill the cliche of sitting in a little cafe with my latte, looking out at the Eiffel tower. Or even somewhere United States local, like Portland, where I hear the literature and the music is breathtaking. I was talking to one of my students, Kirra, about it. She's eight. I asked her where she would like to go, if she could pick anywhere in the world. And she said the most incredibly simple, brilliant thing. "I'd like to go to Japan. Because I want to walk down cherry blossom streets and watch fat guys wrestle." Now why can't I be that sure of things?


So thus beginith this new blogging adventure of mine. I probably won't get many readers, but I think it will definitely somehow help me. Maybe evaluate things, or see myself from the outside. Maybe I'll do something incredible, like travel, or tour, or invent a new color. And then people will actually read what I write. But until then, I am just a girl, who plays a little country music, and likes to see the world for what it really is. And at least I am honest about that.

So long!