Writing boot camp is real and it is happening.
The first item of business is haircuts.
I am in need of a haircut.
I used to see Tamera, who went to Seattle several months ago to be with her long-distance Nate. I can't fault her for that. We turned out to be living parallel lives, except I moved to Phoenix. And I don't cut hair. But other than that..
Tamera was a hair stylist/friend/character in 87 Coffees. Needless to say, I forgot to ask Tamera who she would recommend for another good haircut because we were too busy saying good-bye and having an (almost) tearful moment when she said she was moving.
Sigh. This is not life or death but good bangs are hard to find.
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
Thursday, September 10, 2015
The Storied City
A week ago today I moved to a new land.
All at once everything feels different and then nothing feels different at all.
I feel like I am supposed to be here, this strange place. I feel like I don't know where I fit, this strange place.
What do you do when you're anonymous in a new place?
You get out and see the world, that is all you can do.
I promise there are more pictures, friends, but true to my life, I am out now, at a coffee shop no less, and my phone has died once again.
I have had a couple distinct coffee encounters so far in Phoenix (I will write about them in a few minutes, I promise), but for the most part I've only been able to take in all that is happening around me before actually engaging in it too much. I have always been one of those people who has to understand a little before moving toward.
I want to engage this storied city, but everywhere, things are different. Truth: I need to understand this place a little more but the stories are still here, still coming. They are coming in bits and fragments, and I don't understand how they fit together yet. But that's okay.
The group next to me only further confirm and inspire in me the idea that I may have landed in the desert, but this place is flowing with creativity, diversity and art. They seem to be writers, maybe screenwriters. I am trying not to eavesdrop too much on them but I keep hearing about skits involving clown strippers and puppets on trial..Who are all these people???
It's amazing to be somewhere new, not just for the point of a short travel where time moves quickly and you still see from a distance, but with eyes up close and when foreign meets familiar. It's starting to happen but slowly, or maybe quicker than I imagined.
How much do we forget that we are creatures of habit? What of life when we lay open to what a day brings us? What a place and its people bring us? And when we CAN'T be in control because everything, everything is new?
There, perhaps, is a blessing in disguise.
All at once everything feels different and then nothing feels different at all.
I feel like I am supposed to be here, this strange place. I feel like I don't know where I fit, this strange place.
What do you do when you're anonymous in a new place?
You get out and see the world, that is all you can do.
I promise there are more pictures, friends, but true to my life, I am out now, at a coffee shop no less, and my phone has died once again.
~~~~
I have had a couple distinct coffee encounters so far in Phoenix (I will write about them in a few minutes, I promise), but for the most part I've only been able to take in all that is happening around me before actually engaging in it too much. I have always been one of those people who has to understand a little before moving toward.
I want to engage this storied city, but everywhere, things are different. Truth: I need to understand this place a little more but the stories are still here, still coming. They are coming in bits and fragments, and I don't understand how they fit together yet. But that's okay.
The group next to me only further confirm and inspire in me the idea that I may have landed in the desert, but this place is flowing with creativity, diversity and art. They seem to be writers, maybe screenwriters. I am trying not to eavesdrop too much on them but I keep hearing about skits involving clown strippers and puppets on trial..Who are all these people???
It's amazing to be somewhere new, not just for the point of a short travel where time moves quickly and you still see from a distance, but with eyes up close and when foreign meets familiar. It's starting to happen but slowly, or maybe quicker than I imagined.
How much do we forget that we are creatures of habit? What of life when we lay open to what a day brings us? What a place and its people bring us? And when we CAN'T be in control because everything, everything is new?
There, perhaps, is a blessing in disguise.
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