playing with blocks again

it's been a long time since i've stood,
Girl Against Mountain.

it's been a long time since i've explored new roads
but only in a very literal way.

it's been a long time since i've written
well, like this.

it all feels new and vulnerable.
yet very familiar.

so tonight,
i wrote like this.

drove til successfully lost. hit a dead end, turned around,
was chagrined to stumble onto a familiar street (it meant i'd been here before)

and stood against the mountain.
and though the wind didn't threaten to push me over, the rain came.

9.30.14 // 

i left without a proper goodbye

mariah is driving as i write this post. it's been a crazy trip so far, but the most meaningful state for me has been virginia. 

for lots of different reasons. 

so while we are still here, i wanted to write this. 

dear virginia,

you've always been a mystery to me.

you still kind of are, 

but i was surprised how well we got along. 

i feel like there's a reason i was born in a hospital within your borders.

i want to say i will see you again soon 

but i sort of feel like if i pen that, i won't, and i'm not sure which i'd prefer at the moment. 

so i won't pen either of them.  

i'll just nod my head at you and try not to wish i were still there (because now that i am finishing this, we are already a state or two or three away, so i am not).

thanks for the two-day adventure.

it was bittersweet, to say the least.

love, 

kristin

(the picture: my last night in arlington)

irony

i walked out this evening to find this waiting for me.

it was beautiful and i stood there, on my front porch, and against my will i watched it fade. 

but then it didn't fade fast enough

so i took a picture 

and hurried along my way.

mute comprehension

i have experienced some incredibly difficult types of pain over the last week.
pain that is deep, but comparatively muted in its intensity.

maybe i'll explain later and maybe not, but what i feel the need to communicate at this time is that amidst all of that,
i'm okay.

because, in the end, things work out.
and there are lots of ends and lots of beginnings.
and sometimes it's hard to know which are which.
which is also okay, because i think beginnings and endings are often the same thing:
stories continue.

--

growth inevitably takes pain.

it's amazing how i always seem to forget that sometimes, running away from the wave is more exhausting than just turning around and facing it.

if we let waves wash over us, sometimes they can cleanse.

--

and as cliche as it is, every day is a new day.

we can start becoming who we want to be right now.
there is no minimum requirement for any of our goals.

we can start improving anything from wherever we find it.

--

these thoughts are simple, but i was reminded of their importance today,
through yoga, running, journal writing, music and reading a heartfelt email.

the second

[i'm sitting on my porch, enjoying the weather. it's 79 degrees,  with a slight breeze, 9:20pm. the freeway traffic is creating an interesting sound texture in the distance. closer is the low hum of neighbor voices, with intermittent higher pitches of children playing. even closer are birds. i wonder what they're doing out this late. probably what i'm doing -- enjoying the night as long as they can. here's a account of the last hour. i know it's long; read it if you'd like to vicariously experience a simple lovely night.]

i left fhe late tonight.

i had been talking with a small group of friends, and knew i had stuff to get done,
but wanted to feel their social presence for a little longer.

upon leaving the building, though, i realized that it was a beautiful night.
i said my goodbyes, got in my car and started to drive home.

it was nice to see neighborhood residents walking or jogging.
i was glad that others were actively appreciating this night's perfection.

as i rounded the corner to my street, i was facing the setting sun,
though i could only partially see it.

i couldn't let that go to waste. i kept driving.

i drove past my house, and out of my neighborhood.
i decided i needed to see the sunset tonight.

it was going fast, so i quickly ventured to the nearest road
that i'd be able to see its full beauty unobstructed.

i drove that road, turned and drove on another road which let me face the sunset directly. it was beautiful. the sun wasn't as bright as it usually is, so i could make out its exact circular shape.

it looked...warm. 
as in, pleasant and inviting.

so i drove closer to it.

the windows were down,
and i sang to my summer night driving music.

turned on another road, and another, and continued to watch it.
finally, i had gotten to the road where i would be able to watch it
without houses or trees disrupting it.

i could tell this drive wouldn't be as short a drive as i'd planned.

the sun was going down fast, and to my dismay,
it silently escaped behind the mountain
within seconds of me finally finding that road.

a part of me wished i'd have left fhe earlier.

my eyes were glued on the place where the sun once was;
it was almost as if it disappeared in the same spot it had been,
rather than moving lower out of my view.

and in its place, there was a warm orange glow,
a brightness which generated from the location i'd last seen the sun.

i don't know why it intrigued me so much;
it's like i almost thought that the more i watched it,
the more likely it would just appear again.

i found myself wanting to freeze this atmosphere 
and just bask in it for a while.
i realized the sun would obviously appear again,
but only it'd be tomorrow.
and i'd have to look for it in a different place in the sky.

still, i mourned for the moment that was fading so quickly,
though it wasn't entirely over.

so i just tried to focus on the moment
and soak it all in, as best i could.

when i usually drive along this road,
i only go to a certain point before stopping and turning around.

but tonight, i kept driving.
didn't really even think about it.

just kept going. 

singing to my music sometimes, and sometimes letting it sing to me.

i turned off onto an unfamiliar rural road
that led me closer to the remnants of the sunset, 

and kept driving. 

turned again.

into a neighborhood,

(and was a bit chagrined) 

but kept going.

turned again.

and...again,

and then i realized that these roads were slightly familiar to me; 

i'd been here once before. 

fueled from the recognition, 

i drove with more confidence. 

it led out of the neighborhood,
another rural road, 

with a field on one side 

and not much on the other. 

i thought about stopping

so that i could concentrate fully on the last bits of color in the sky, 

but i had the feeling that the speed of the car

and the wind in my face

was helping to make this experience one that i needed. 

it was steadily getting darker, 

though i was still headed toward the direction of where the sun had been.

i started to feel a tad uneasy, 

but pushed that away and kept driving.
shortly after, i couldn't push the feeling away completely, 

but the road was too narrow to turn around.

decidedly, i looked for a place to turn.

when i found one, i pulled over and turned off my music, 

then turned my car around. 

i noticed that my car had been
fighting against me a little tonight; 

she's old and i push her too much sometimes. 

but she's patient with me, and will assist in my adventures as much as she can.

it had been too much for her tonight.
though i could only tell when i stopped to listen to her. 

so i turned around and drove back in silence, 

listening to my car 

and my thoughts

(which i had been so careful to drown out earlier). 

when i got back to the familiar neighborhood, i saw a friend drive by, 

which was completely random because

this was far away from my neighborhood. 

i had come to a stop sign when he drove past me, perpendicular to my direction. 

i turned left and ended up behind him. 

he didn't see me. 

we got onto a main road when he took off.

i had the urge to speed up to catch up to him.

i don't know why; it's not like i wanted to stop him and say hi or wave or anything. 

not tonight, at least.

then i felt the protests of my poor car,
so i slowed and really tried to listen to her. 

it was hard, but she drove better when i stopped trying to push past her limit. 

(i've always thought my car is a lady in gender). 

eventually we ended up at the same light
as my friend. then he turned, and i kept on straight.

eventually, i turned here

and there
and there

and....there. 

back to familiar places. 

into my neighborhood

and onto my driveway. 

which brings me here. 

on my porch. 

it's dark now, and

my back hurts from being slouched over my laptop.

truth be told, when i first drove past my house tonight,

i almost turned around again so i could grab my running shoes 

to enjoy the night. 

but i knew that my injuries couldn't handle that yet, 

so i drove. 

though it wasn't fast, 

i needed that speed.

--

in other news, i wore red lipstick today. 

and i am staring at a very large black cat across the street.

they move on tracks of never-ending light

[though it looks like one, this isn't a poem; it's just an unedited thought i scribbled out during a concert to the other night. i just preserved the format here that i wrote in my book, based on the book's physical constraints. the mental image i got was cooler than the words this time, but here they are anyway.]

adventures are challenging,
difficult and painful at times.
but worth it.
always worth it.

the whole point of exploring is
to uncover uncharted territories.
places that quite literally no one
has gone before.

which is honestly terrifying,
when you think about it.
because no one can know
what there is to be found.

but though there could be
tigers or snakes or monsters
or our biggest insecurities
waiting to stare us in the face,

no one will ever know their strength
until they face them.

[i've always said i love adventure--all sorts of it--but i'm not so sure if i ever really fully processed this aspect of it. out of default and experience, i've accepted it, but i don't know if i've ever really committed to accepting it willingly.]

author's note: to be honest, this is a post more for me than for you. just a simple experience i wanted to document. the night is dark and cool; i'm writing from my front porch. so, if you'd like to take a break from life's noise and join me on this pretty, quiet evening, go ahead and read how i spent it below. 

after all, i do enjoy company.

i chased the sunset tonight. 

driving home from a friend's gathering around 8pm, i decided i wasn't done with the night. there were other things i could be doing, but the sunset was beautiful, and it drew me in. windows down, i veered into another lane and headed to find a road that would lead me to higher ground to get a good view. 

at first, i was honestly not very concerned with finding the sun; i sang along to my ipod with my windows down. then i realized how fast the view was leaving, and how beautiful it was. so i drove with more intent. faster, higher. found a decent view, but the street was cluttered with teenagers and skateboards. i doubt they even noticed the sky. which was fine. so i drove on, all the while keeping my eyes on the disappearing sun.

eventually i stumbled upon the road that i'd been looking for. drove higher. reached the summit. and, oh, it was beautiful. but fleeting. it was almost gone when i arrived. but i parked and got out, miss holga in hand. i didn't document right away; instead, i savored the moment. 

it was…well. cleansing? pure, maybe? they all sound pretty cheesy and overused, but um, yeah. that.

i took out miss holga and made a couple pictures. then i took out little green sketchbook and made some more.

meanwhile, a couple of cats meandered their way over to me. rubbed against my legs as i stood and thought and drew. 

i hadn't drawn since school got out. but tonight, i needed to create.

one cat was white and tan -- you know those kinds? it got distracted and scampered off. it came back to me a few times but was pretty content chasing bugs and such. 

i turned around and drew the other direction. 

the other cat was white, with a black face and black paws. he stayed nearby, kindly holding various poses for me to draw him. his payment to me was to periodically come back to keep my ankles company. he was soft and and it felt nice.

i finished my tiny drawings and watched the rest of the sky fade. the sun had already gone, but the remnants were intriguing in a new way. 

i stood there, girl against the edge of a mountain, on that hill, for a long time. listened to the crickets and the distant sounds. stood still as the cars passed and the neighbors chatted and the sky changed moods. 

i looked down at my shoes and decided to try to get a photo of my black pawed companion, who was again weaving figure eight patterns around my feet. but after i returned from the car with camera in hand, he turned and trotted across the street. i figured if i walked back to my place and stayed still, like i had when he approached the first time, he might come back. he sat on one side of the road; i stood on the other. we dared each other to move. 

the clouds were beautiful. the sky was a series of dark blues.

a car came between us and whizzed down the hill.  after it passed, i looked at black paws and he looked at me. neither budged. 

i shifted my eyes and again studied the view. the lights around the city had been steadily making their presence known. their twinkling was a nice contrast to the fading natural light and ensuing darkness that settled in.

to my right, the white cat continued to frolic, chasing little invisibles. 

to my left, (and to my dismay), the black pawed cat wandered further away and settled down by a bush. 

i remained still. 

...
..
.


about like that. 

eventually, i quietly thanked the black cat for his companionship, though i doubt he could understand how much i appreciated it (after all, he was a cat) and climbed into my car. wrote some words and stuff. you know. how i do sometimes. 

i started the car and rolled down the window as i pulled out. i strained my eyes to see both cats, very faintly, sitting on the left side of the road, watching me leave. 

i was glad i could share the moment with them. especially with black paws.


----

on monday, i wrote. wrote and wrote and wrote. and wrote.
on thursday, i danced. danced and danced and danced. 

yesterday, i ran. ran and ran.

tonight, lots of thoughts were washing over me. i let them come unfiltered. in and out and all around, i could barely contain them all. i wanted to share them with a someone. 

but, i didn't. couldn't. 

instead, i drove. tonight, i drove. drove and…well, you get the picture. 
then i wrote this.

----

grow and grow, till tall. 

...