Abhi’s Neighborhood

Two days from now I shall be jetting my way across the Pacific for just the second time in my life. I am going to Hawaii. I hope very much that when I step off the plane, the ocean air will hum with a smile of recognition and say welcome..."eia kā ʻoe hoʻi mai...so you have come back again." (Or at least that's what the online translator said.)

I am meeting my family in Kauai for a week. Mountains have had to be moved (8 pets + 1 week = lots of petsitting) and movidas masterminded (I shall be working remotely M -F next week with my day starting at about 4 am local time) so that I could go on this trip, but it's going to happen.

I hedged for a long time on whether to go or not. I was concerned about being away from the office for that time--uncertain for a short time about my job security. I was concerned about spending that much time alone with family. (Hey I love them, but close quarters can be stressful on anyone.) And, I was concerned about going back there, a second time, alone.

Luckily these things all passed and I got off the fence in time to get a ticket (thanks, Dad--gotta love those frequent flier miles) in early June. I am back in the good graces of most all at work and am a golden girl with my team. Recent events have given me some perspective on family and I'll be glad to be with them as their newly minted adult daughter. And, oh yes, I am pleased to be going back alone. I rather prefer it.

The first visit, you see, was to Waikiki and then to Maui for a honeymoon back in 2002. It was a great trip--and remains so, the memories no less diminished by the end of the marriage. In a funny way, I'm more free to enjoy those memories now than before. My ex used to talk about that trip like it was heaven...he'd bring it up in good times and bad, sometimes daydreaming about the adventures we had, sometimes cursing me/us because the life we had was so different from that week--a week of vacation when we had no responsibilities and wedding money meant that finances weren't a concern. It always seemed a bit unreasonable to me.

So, I'm heading to Kauai and not Maui this trip, but to the islands nonetheless and am looking forward to it immensely. It's actually supposed to rain most of while we're there and I can't wait to see it, smell it, taste it. I love the rain, just about anywhere as long as it's not deadly, and I would love a week of rain and clouds, even heat, to write and walk and dream in.

Hopefully many pics and posts will be forthcoming. Posting from Hawaii just a has a romantic feel to it. 

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If you had told me this time last year that this would be my existence, I would have thanked you for your kind wishes, but not really have believed you. I would likely have muttered "bullshit" under my breath, and then chastised myself for being so negative, chanting "hopeful, faithful, joyful" ever more intently for the next several days.

That was my mantra. Hopeful. Faithful. Joyful. It sounds a little silly perhaps. I guess in many ways it was a grand experiment in fake it till you make it. I didn't want to end up bitter, angry, negative, pessimistic (more so than usual) or in any way a generally fucked-up divorcee like so many I've seen. I didn't want to keep cursing my financial situation. I didn't want to immerse myself in the cold comfort of depression and guilt, not looking for happiness, not feeling I deserved it. Not believing that things could change.

And so I walked the dog at dawn and dusk and times in between, and I watched the light change and the clouds roll in and over the rooftops. I ran down miles of road, forcing myself to keep my head up, eyes forward, shoulders back. And I reminded myself with each step...each passing minute...of what I wanted to be.

Today, money is less of a problem than it was last year--it's not fluid, but it's manageable--and credit card debt is gone. I've a new job and, really, a new career that I enjoy and that lets me work with people who don't make me want to punch them in the throat...too often. I have learned to push my body beyond old limits and am seeking out new ones. I enjoy that push. 'I love to hate that burn.' I've dabbled in previously back-burner creative activities like painting and gardening and cooking and am pleased with my experiences with them all, and think I'm a badass in at least a couple of them. And determining that the time for lock-down was over, I've a thread of romance running through my days now.

I've learned a lot. Not just in the last year, of course. And as I reflect on what my astrologically-inclined friends call the time of my Saturn rising, I can't help but see the forest stretching its arms around the the trees.

Growing up hasn't been what I thought it would be. Somehow despite my love of books and appreciation for the romance and lessons of drama and tragedy, I didn't realize that my own stories were going to be filled with so many false starts and ambiguous endings, painful mistakes and injuries. And on top of that, I didn't understand that those unexpected turns didn't automatically translate to failure. I thought I was supposed to be golden. I thought anything less than perfect was...not unacceptable...but unforgiveable.

Hard to be happy when you decide to carry that mark from age 16...hard to be truly generous with others when you only punish yourself with their successes. To everyone whose eyes have ever met mine to see disdain, disappointment, or a cold venomous envy, I'd like to apologize and ask your forgiveness for my behavior. You see, I wasn't really looking at you. I was looking at me.

But today, I don't see that in my eyes anymore.

And so thirty years and as many friendships and dreams realized and destroyed later, I've come to understand the importance of the 'heart of the matter.' It's not everything. It's not the secret to life. But for me, it's the difference between the last years and this year. It's the difference between holding back and letting go. It's the difference between a half-hearted ending and a good start.

It's about forgiveness. And with that...welcome to the rest of my life. 

On Saturday night i got to get all dressed up and go to a party with Dean and his wife and their friends - a crazy bunch, but SUCH NICE PEOPLE!

It was the Angels&Demons party at a club called DecaDance - all alternative and heavy stuff... music was AWESOME!!! It was like the Playground... but without the sticky floor and dark corners...
It's an old biscuit mill, with big soft chairs (from an abandoned movie theatre) and nice padded walls... dancefloor is a little small... which was _difficult_ with the wings i had on, to say the least!
I poked a number of people in the eye, and managed to get myself tangled with angel halos and various people's hair!

but my wings were definitely the hit of the evening (thanks sam! and thanks for the AMAZING makeup!) and i stood out from all the other demons (and, quite obviously, the angels)

I had a blast... it was so nice to get out - i haven't been to a club in ... must be 10 years now... since the playground closed down, and Lloyds... it's been a _long_ time, to say the least...

thanks to Dean, for inviting me, and always checking on me, making sure i was ok (he knows i'm not good in crowds, or with too many people touching me... )

i got to drive his SUPER sexy car home (i stayed at their place for the night.. morning... since we got home at 6:30am!!) because i was sober (i had 4 jagercrackers - a MINI version of the bomb, especially for me - but spaced out over the entire evening.. so i was fine) and WOW what a CAR!!!!
(Alfa Romeo)

According to IrishLuckyLass's vox it's self portrait Thursday today.  The only recent shot I have of myself wasn't really meant for public consumption.  It was taken so Britt could see my new glasses.  so now you guys get to to see them, too!  Aren't you lucky.

New Glasses

This photo wasn't really meant to be shown at all.  I just took it so Britt could see my new glasses.  Because she asked nice.  And since I found out that Thursday is apparently self-portrait day thanks to IrishLuckyLass... here it is.

New Glasses

Here's how the show went.

Second Encore

Show us a bird native to your habitat.

Kinder Surprise: Parrot

This is the only type of bird that can survive in my office space.

Nasher Sculpture Center

Sure Raymond and Patsy Nasher could have done other things with their money, and they did, but all in all I would say that the Nasher Sculpture Center--formerly their privately held collection--is the something beautiful that has carved a soft spot in my heart for Dallas' othewise angular, industrial, tourist-glossy self.

Nasher Sculpture Center

Walking through the brightly lit rooms, it was a thrill to recognize an artist's sculpture by the chord of memory it struck in my mind. The artwork of Picasso, Max Ernst, Joao Milo that I saw back in Venice last year at the Peggy Guggenheim just burst forth into 3D with the sculpture exhibited here. I'm fairly new to an interest in art--I'm self-taught and my passions come and go, being self-cultivated as well. So every new museum visit is still an enchanting experience for me. And for some reason it's the stringing together of artists and styles that sends chills up my spine and, at times, makes me catch my breath and brings tears to my eyes.

Nasher Sculpture Center

I remember how I felt the first time I saw the balloon like faces of Picasso's Bathers with a Toy Boat and I'm transported back to the colors and smells and senses of traveling abroad, of daring to indulge in such luxuries as art and travel, and then I let the wave of recognition wash over me and I take in the new piece, letting it attach to the string of memories. The next time I see a Picasso, my brain will flip through all the pieces I've seen before and I'll understand a little more of his journey, feel a little more of what he wanted me to feel.

Nasher Sculpture Center

Sigh. It really was lovely visit and I strongly encourage anyone traveling to Dallas to consider it a must-see. The galleries only show a number of works at a time, rotating the collection so that it's quite possible my first visit will differ widely from my next.

I can't wait to go back. For all the photos from my Nasher visit, see the slideshow on my flickr account.

Here are a few more images just for the love of them.