Sunrise from Flight 24

December 8, 2017By Focal NomadPOETRY, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken (on my iPhone) and words written in October 2017. LAX to SYR.

I thought we weren’t going to see it.
I was sure the light would hit the pilots
Eyes and we would just get a magnificent
Casting of orange over the mountains of
Clouds. But sometimes when we think
We’re only being given a glimmer
The skies surprise us.

Facing just east enough to catch it in
The top left corner of my oval window
I feel a rush. Bright, neon orange crescent
Peaking over peaks and valleys of clouds.
I almost forgot to shoot this one, hence,
The iPhone. My smart device doesn’t really
Do it justice but I’m proud of myself for
Showing up. Most often, that’s what counts.

I’m exhausted and can’t figure out how to
Sleep. My heart is finally back in its chest again
Because it took getting up here to find it again
As for the past week I’ve been bathing in the
Sunsets I’ve shared and remembering them
In the reflection of these icey blue eyes
Eyes that sat above lips that were always primed
To be kissing mine. I found my heart –
And my head – again; back in these clouds.

I look forward to crimson and rusted leaves
Biting into tart and sweet Empire apples
Drinking cinnamon-spiced hot apple cider
Wrapping myself into a long navy blue dress
And standing there in the family dirt surrounded
By my favorite senses, alongside my whole family
to wish my sister and her husband a life as
full as my heart. The only other person in my
life to know what it’s like to pick the biggest
apple at the top, to have dad carrying 2 massive
bags down the hill, to not be able to have just
one fried apple fritter. To know that
some days the apples are too sour, sometimes
we can’t get to the top, sometimes it’s muddy
but we’ll always find each other connected by
our traditions, and our showing up for them,
and that, is love.

Sunrise from the Amtrak Starlight Line

December 1, 2017By Focal NomadPOETRY, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken (on my iPhone) and words written in August 2017. Portland to Los Angeles.

I didn’t want to wake her
This stranger, I cared enough
To let her sleep and let my art
Be shot at a sub-par level

The sun, for the first time
Since I started this
Actually burst over the horizon
I could see it’s rays peaking
For 20 full minutes, teasing me

I had to pee, I gently stepped over
Her, she awoke only for a moment
Smiling. She knew what I was
Doing. We had been laughing
As long-time friends just last night
About our travels, language
and the man I met in the dining car.

He was supposed to meet me in the lounge.
The view dark, blackened by the reading
Lights of the train. I had a thick copy
Of the Gonzo papers, which to him was an
Old Bible, a religion he used to worship.

We’d both been through some shit and
Sported the scars to prove it. Moving forward to
Get to our respective homes, optimistic
That although the bad seems to follow us
We seem to overcome each time.

I’ve been to the home he was headed to twice
Before. He had never been. He wanted to know
What he should do once he had gotten
There, and I told him about the deep house
Sunrises, using his instincts and mourning
His losses at the temple. Having noticed a
Bare left hand, I wanted to tell him more –
But we weren’t having dinner alone.
If I told him what I wanted to, our third
Dinner guest would have more to pray for
Than just his fight for his life.

He was supposed to meet me in the
Lounge, and I read our heroes words
as the pain in my head got stronger.
I went back to my seat, frustrated
giddy to my seatmate at this chance
encounter wishing I was going home
With him, not to LA.
Where I sleep, eat, and try to survive.

I went looking for him in Sacramento
But my train was about to leave, and
I had to honor my journey for this year.
Sometimes our journeys run parallel
With only very rare, very special
Moments to intersect, look at ourselves
In another to say “ah” there you are.
We will meet again, we just may not
Remember.

Sunrise at Pittock Mansion, Portland

November 18, 2017By Focal NomadPOETRY, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in August 2017. Portland, OR.

Maybe mint can
wake me up.
The most asleep
thing I ever did was
check in on him instead
of checking in with myself.
When there’s haze
and the beauty only
creeps in, I still
manage to shoot it,
but have I captured it?
There was a young
photographer from
Astoria in front of the
mansion – set on his
tripod, there in the
cold two hours before
the sun rose.
Using flimsy kit lenses
but using them all.
I promised myself
just one lens – but
left my tripod in the
car –
and didn’t bother to
go get it.
to me, I was just proud that I
didn’t go home with a
stranger last night in
favor of driving my ass
over here…
but I could have
woken earlier.
I could have checked
in on this checkin
to show up better
prepared.
But I wanted more
evidence to take home
as I continued my
loneliness patterns.
I cried during the
eclipse, and the relationship
to my camera bonded
stronger; but I
left the people out
in the foreground.
I haven’t lost my
motivation but it’s
like everything is going
in slow-motion.
I want to move
at full speed again,
or just be moved
to full speed ahead.

Sunrise over Oregon Eclipse Festival

October 5, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, COVERAGE, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in August 2017. Oregon Eclipse Festival, OR.

The music whistled above the soft bass as I watched the flies bounce above the lake perfectly in synch. The ducks had just taken their morning bath are now diving back in. I’m looking around me and all I can think about is how I wish I had risked my camera to the dust a lot sooner.

“Don’t loose your sense of wonder,” a voice said to me, here, a few nights ago.

Deep breath, try,
Writing something, by
Breath, lie about
Your job, your relationship
Status, your income…
I found myself
Puffing myself out like
A duck this weekend.
Who was I trying to
Impress, anyways?

There’s a lot of work to be done. If there’s anything this place has taught me: the craftsmanship, the music, the acting, the dedication to performance, to parenting, to yours and mines LSD trips… It took all of us to create this experience. It dawned on me here at dawn, that all I ever wanted is in the friends I tackle to the ground when I see them. The synchronicities and full circles shared from strangers turned friends. Festival magic is us.

I want to wake up to myself, get to my practice am grateful that I wasn’t distracted. It gets cold at night – but then the sun comes I’m grateful for my choices to stay awake. To say no to beautiful bodies that could risk my seeing a sunrise. The beautiful choice to spend all night in a tea lounge – learning about the subtleties of the varied leaves and the ritual of its steeping. Making “just-friends” with every addition to come to our table even when the candles were blown out. The choice to go back to a spot that I said I would and expand. The choice to be okay with the unknown ahead.

The choice to say fuck you to management and my job so they never kidnap me full time. The choice to be here, to not burn, to not know why I had to, and then the sky going dark and just knowing I had to – and why hasn’t my camera been out longer? What have I been resisting all this time?

She calls to me – Art
And I am hers, I choose these
Sunrises over any impassioned love
For this Earth is my home.
It’s only for that I should
take some time out of my
mornings to honor her majesty,
Her forgiveness
And her magic.

Sunrise Over the 175

August 2, 2017By Focal NomadPOETRY, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in May 2017. Town of Onondaga, NY.

Some might call my choices foolish
Reckless, even. Stupid, when will
She ever learn to stop making
Wishes on weeds. I guess it’s a
Thing of my girlhood I won’t
Leave, to keep seeing these as
Flowers. Seeing bad ideas as seeds.

Every moment I think that I’m done
The light changes and more is revealed.
I dry my feet and wait in the car
I’ll suffer for my art but not that much.
The wind rustles, I wonder how many
Wishes are being wasted right now
On nature. Mother earth has a lot to
Wish for right now though.

Humans like me we try but we still
Stomp on un-mowed grass and plants
That we perceive to not matter as
Much. Like we could know better.
As if we would know better than
Nature intended. So maybe nature
Did intend me to be this way
In it’s complicated force, not all
Parts of nature are beautiful or nice
More often it is simply necessary.

It’s an interesting thing to watch oneself
Create oneself and destroy oneself
Simultaneously. One would argue that
It isn’t possible. We must first die
And then be reborn and grow from there.
Then, I think of expansion, and how if we
Are all connected, I am always born, reborn
Dying and thriving all at the same time.

So what if I consciously chose to do this?
What if I took that seemingly meaningless
Dandelion and blew so hard that I did
Nature’s work for her? Watching the seeds
Drift and land where they may. Some
May die, some may spread and grow into other
“weeds” But then, may some get eaten and
digest into something bigger than I had
planned for, but was naturally ready for.

There isn’t anything that I want
That isn’t all ready sewn into the fabric
Of my making. If I choose it so. I
Choose to uncover this. Take a risk, be
foolish and try once again.

Sunrise at El Capitan, Yosemite

July 12, 2017By Focal NomadPOETRY, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in May 2017. Yosemite National Park, CA.

Trying to remember
The tranquility of the
Dead pine crunching
Beneath my feet
As I pop an antacid
Trying to pretend like
I’ve got time to shelve
This shit.

I wanted to walk further
Away from another
Just stay on my own
Side of the path
Stay in my own lane
Stay in my own row
Of seats and let myself
Be unaffected.

I don’t really get jokes
These days, unless it’s
Clown-nose obvious.
I don’t want to be shown
All the ways in which I
Missed magic, confronted
With all the ways in which
I’m half-alive.

Click. Click. Click-click.
I’m here, I’m watching
The light move from
Blue to golden and I’m
Feeling a rare sense of pride.
I woke up to a bird chirping
And my body was right
On time.

Pinecones in my pockets.
Thousands of images on
Discs. One page, one word,
One step at a time. Progress,
Not perfection, they say. The
Light creeped along El Capitan
I caught it, and I didn’t just
Stand there, when it burst
Through the trees.

Sunrise from my Roof

July 8, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, Posts, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in April 2017. Los Angeles, CA.

Is this really where it starts? Readiness is a choice. If we are our actions, I have to surrender to having lost control. If I am my actions, I am scared and looking for reasons not to recover. I am looking for every reason not to write, right now. We all want to believe that there is nothing wrong with us, and on a base, conceptual level that’s true. When faced with the things in our lives we wish were different, there’s really nowhere else to look but at ourselves. This morning, this is what I am faced with – standing on the edge of my roof looking for the sun that’s hiding behind the LA smog. I can be eco-conscious but I can’t single-handedly make the entire city’s smog go away. So I surrender. It’s amazing what will reveal itself, what will become clear, when you simply slow down, stop running, and let your eyes adjust.

In doing so, I have found the first half of my life to be covered with haze. I was made to believe that my childhood was fine. My brain only remembers the big gifts, my father and I making silly faces and my mother driving me everywhere. I had to stay busy. I had to stay on stage. I had to be going from dance classes, to singing classes to rehearsal and I remember, when a show would end I would feel this incredible ache. I would feel what I now realize to be grief. There I would be, a kid or a teenager, having to look at myself during the in-betweenness as I auditioned furiously to get myself back outside of myself. There was comfort in hopping out of my body and into anothers’. There was what felt like love when I would get on stage and I would hear that applause – and with that, they noticed me. I was accepted and special.

It’s amazing how a pattern started in childhood can continue and be transferred into our relationships in adulthood. Eyes focused, I now see how relationship after relationship has bonded around this pattern of seeking dramatic distractions outside myself to escape the question of myself. A lot has changed in the less-hazy last half of my life and at the same time, not much has. I left acting all together; I discovered myself to be a leader in booking punk shows, I co-founded a non-profit and moved behind the camera pursuing my passions of photography, writing and documentary filmmaking more aggressively. My needs now involved having friends, love, a successful career and to give meaning to my life. Leaving acting was a conscious decision to leave a behind a legacy and take control of my life and not allow my fate to be sealed by directors who were constantly thrusting me into victim roles.

Although the form of my relationships have morphed and changed, the patterns remained the same. Love became my stage – the theatrics of unhealthy attachments became my new distraction that prevented me from ever really attaining the needs in my life that had finally crystallized. An endless slew of unhealthy partners were planted on my path and I ran away from feeling emotions for anyone that was actually available to me. Who was I? I gave more of myself than I was ready to my first love who set the precedent of betrayal and abuse that after I became accustomed to in varying forms. The people changed, even the types of relationships changed. The pain inside vicious cycles of avoidance persisted. I was getting attention masked as love. I was getting false promises masked as truth. I was getting a lesson masked as what I thought could be forever. I got smarter seeing the red flags yelling at me to STOP but I kept running. I violated myself. I broke my own heart.

Sometimes it takes learning the same lesson over and over again before the sound of its teachings can’t be unheard no matter how far we run. Today I get my stuff back from the last lesson I’ll ever have to deal with, because readiness is a choice. It starts by saying goodbye, it starts by ending one thing to realize a new beginning. It starts by stopping. All I can do is surrender. All I can do is admit that I am powerless and remember that I am not alone.

Love Comes in the Derpiest Dogs

July 1, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, COVERAGE

Since our friendship began last fall, my friend Tyler has been raging about Corgi Beach Day. “They’re just so derpy!” Tyler would say of the awkwardly adorable pups. Makes sense this made him so excited, since Tyler’s niche in photography is capturing derp faces at cosplay conventions. I’ll admit I’m more of a cat-person, but the idea of a bunch of stubby-legged, fox-like seemingly smiling dogs, like, hundreds of them, prancing along a Californian shore, was kind of an irresistible notion for me.

If you’ve been paying any attention to the content of my blog, you’d gather that I was going through a bit of a rough patch – an understatement. So Corgi Beach Day at Huntington Beach couldn’t have come at a better time.

We drove down at 8am, which to me was an incredible feat for a Saturday morning. How many people could there possibly be at this hour? Turns out, quite a few; over 1,000 Corgis alone attended, not to mention their owners and friends. We whipped out our cameras and set to capture these pooches as they engaged in water play, posing in doggy photo booths, and meeting their famous TV counterparts. Not to mention, the contests: costume contests (both tiki-themed and anything goes), a bacon-flavored-bubble eating contest, a limbo contest and a talent show.

The owners of these dogs were so dedicated to their attire and training that it almost seemed cultish. But – the kind of cult where, if I were to have a dog, I’d definitely want to join. Furthermore, these dogs just seemed fucking HAPPY. I envied them: sitting there in their cool goggle-shades, every human fawning on them like royalty, many of them with way more instagram followers than me, and just rolling with it.

Trying to understand happiness these days and where it comes from, I set out to understand these pups by asking the folks who would know best, their owners, what they thought their best friends were thinking in the Corgi Beach Day experience, and here’s what they said:

Winston the White Corgi (4 yrs)

“He’s probably thinking that everybody’s here to see him play fetch. Oh he loves an audience. He does – oh yeah. So even when we walk around on the street, like any other day, he just kinds of looks up at people thinking, oh they’re gonna come talk to me. He’s used to all the attention and he’s usually a good sport. He’s a big ham. We call him our little diva, he just loves an audience, so anytime anyone comes over he needs to find a ball to show off his fetching skills. So he probably thinks all of these people are here to throw his ball. I think he also thinks he’s probably the best one. He has a healthy amount of confidence. Winston was born in Ariozona, we found him through a breeder, it just so happened they had one male available, so that’s how we got him. But we didn’t get him knowing he was going to be white. He turned white. We thought he was going to be the red and white color that a lot of the corgis are and then over time he grew lighter and lighter and then people just started calling him ‘white corgi’ and it just stuck.”

Tina from New York City
IG: @winstonthewhitecorgi FB: Winston the White Corgi

Goji the Corgi (3 months)

“He’s just excited for the attention. He’s loving it. He’s loving it. He’s having the best time of his life. Then he’s gonna sleep really well in a couple of hours. This is his second time [to the beach]. He loves to play with dogs. That’s his thing he loves it. He’s got freckles and one blue eye.”
Ani from Hermosa Beach
IG: @gojithecorgi

Zooey the Corgi (4 yrs)

Savanna: He got her from the Hudson River Mall. She’s ecstatic right now I think. She loves all the attention. Everybody just comments on her, wants to see her. She carries a toy in her mouth all seconds of the day, she has to have her toys all the time. Her little piggy toy [is her favorite.]

Chuckie: She’s been going to the Corgi Beach day for three years now. She didn’t go to the parade. [Sherry] made the costume and then [Savanna] made the shirts.

Sherry: She’s spoiled-rotten and has over 115 stuffed animals.

Chuckie: She sleeps on the bed with us, and we built stairs for her to go up and then she just learned how to go up the stairs backwards and we put it up on her instagram.

Savanna, Chuckie and Sherry from Redlands
IG: @zooeythecorgi

Cona and River

“They are friends. We had Cona first and her other friend passed away. And actually we didn’t know if she would be able to get along with somebody because she’s very much an alpha female but they’ve assimilated very well. He has a very passive personality and so he defers to her. So she’s really accepted him and that was more than we could ask for. This is their first [Corgi Beach Day.] They’re thinking please do not leave us here. I think [they’re a little shy.] They’re like, this is fine, as long as we can keep you in eye contact at all times. We get a lot of attention. She’ll roll over, and he, because I think he’s still getting used to people, he’s a little bit more resistant. Her [signature move] is to roll over for a belly rub and his is when I go out and try to water the plants, he flies through the air and he tries to bite the water. I think that he was interested in [the ocean.]”
Lisa and Gary from Boulder City, NV

Waffles (3 yrs) and Biscuit (5 yrs)

“We flew them here and this is their first Corgi Beach Day and we are very excited to be here. They came from Virginia, we got Biscuit with an AKC breeder, and Biscuits sister is Waffles’ mother and the niece. So they’re sort of related. They come here to California quite frequently, that’s where we’re originally from, so they come here, but less than ten times at the beach, so this is just a different world to them I think and they’re just overwhelmed. I think they’re loving the attention, like I’ve never seen them smile so hard and so long. They do pose with a couple of other Corgi’s out in Virginia out in the DC area all the time. We do have a Corgi meetup for Washington DC called the March of Corgis. So we do that, they’re one of the five Corgis I found in that group there. Waffles is the drama queen she likes to start trouble with everybody. She likes to really show her dominance. She’s Miss sassy. She likes the attention to be for her. Biscuit is very, very passive, she’s just more, ‘I’m here,’ you know. Biscuit can do a ‘sit-pretty’ and she can also roll over. We learned that when she was a puppy by herself. It took maybe a week or so. Waffles loves food more than anything. You show her food she’ll do anything for you, pretty much. [Her favorite thing to do is] beg. My husband and I are both foodies and I’m a chef. So naturally, it was just the names and we love brunch, so… These [goggles] are Doggles; you can find them on Amazon. They’re UV-protective so it protects their eyes. Especially being out here in the sun.”
Mahm from Washington D.C.
IG: @biscuitandwafflesthecorgis

To see the entire album of insanely adorable photos from Corgi Beach Day go here!

Fire and Ice

June 17, 2017By Focal NomadPOETRY, Posts

Shot for No Fear of Missing Out at Desert Hearts Three Year Anniversary

On the full moon
I lit your face on fire
And it is so
I let you go
And it is so
I let you go

But now I’m
right back where
I started
I think I would have
to burn the whole house down
to erase these tears
From the confusion of the hope
I thought I had for you

I should be doing other things than
typing this out
I have so many other things
I could be focusing on
So many other ways
I could be spending my time
I need to cut you out
But right now
I’m just cutting you into a snowflake
Something unique
Never to be created again
Now, I’m waiting for spring to arrive
So you can melt away and
Be erased from this wonderland

and I know it’s not good to hold on
and I know it’s not good to wish
for winter to last
I caught you on my tongue and
98.6 degrees was too hot for you
Heat can’t feel right to snow
But snow feels hotter than fire
when mixed together
and while I enjoyed creating
steam with you – we both know
this wouldn’t sustain itself

so now I’m accepting that
the seasons will change
Forest fire will happen again
I will once again be
in my element – and people
will use me on their toys
I will whip around carved bodies
like a thing that wants to be tamed
Because right now it’s dry ice
it hurts to burn and yet it’s a way
I feel alive.

People are always trying to tame me
Or reign me in. But all I wanted was
to feel appreciated by a thing that
can’t appreciate the thing that makes it
melt in my presence and can’t hold their
shape. Where I’m just flickering here
Hoping you can enjoy my warmth, my
glow, my illuminating strength.
I don’t want to be put out – but I
can see that I put you out – and for
that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that what
I am doesn’t work for what you are.
All I wanted was to make you happy
But I’m learning now that you can
Only enjoy what I am from a distance
Maybe then, maybe if I move back
What I am can make you happy.
And while I’m whipping away on others
hips and waists, I hope you’re impressed
with the magic I can create. I hope you
feel inspired to evaporate and come
back to me as more unique snowflakes
Because I don’t want to loose this
I know it’s scary, to become something
new. But I also understand that,
that may be asking too much of you.

So I’ll continue to ignite and dance,
I’ll continue to glow and burn bright
so you can see in the dark, even from
how far away I am, how amazing you are.
So that you can enjoy what I have to offer,
with out being consumed by it.

If you need some time, I’ll wait till next season.
I think that’s what I need maybe more than you.
We’re in winter now, and it’s your time
to dance, your time to light up the day with
a blanket of white – your time to fall
through the sky with other snowflakes
who are just like you – and it’s my time
to step aside, and learn how I fit in here.
I’ll keep contained and on fire balls
and in rusted barrels to help those who
need me. When summer arrives, you’ll be
in the sky – you’ll see me at my most
powerful. Then you’ll understand who I
I can’t shake this in me – nor should
I want to. I can’t burn as bright as I need
to if I choose to visit you in a freezer
so stay in the sky – and watch. I am only
destructive when used carelessly. Know
what I can offer though – in domes I’m warming
ravers, at homes I’m cooking your food, I am
the charge the gives life to electricity –
I can warm you, dazzle you – I can and I have
saved your life. But for you in particular –
only
from a safe distance.