Jersey.

It took me all of 33 minutes to make it from my family's home in New Jersey to Tania's house in Park Slope, Brooklyn. Of course I drove like an L.A. madwoman, but nevertheless, 33 minutes.

No one in my new home, Santa Clarita says that's where they are from. They say they live in Los Angeles - because it's all Los Angeles County. As if it's the same thing. I would never say I'm from Middlesex County, or New York City. I was born and raised in Jersey. It just seems odd to me. I didn't grow up in a suburb of New York! I grew up in Jersey. Have some respect.

Jersey

Cali & New York

(just be forewarned, they get a little too personal as the comment posts go on)

Once.

I pre-judged this film... I thought it'd glorify a romantic adulterous affair, and I was quite wrong. There was longing and friendship but the longing ended there... While there was delicate ground to tread there was no adulterous act and there were fine boundaries. I enjoyed watching the film with a local - we had an Irishman among us who knew the nooks and crannies of the filming, the streets, the beaches, the hillsides. I appreciated the songwriting and the creative relationships among the people.

Alive.

My friend Pilar looked across the table at me- the things she said were piercing, timely, reminders of what is happening below the surface. Below the blonde California hair, the smile, the skin, the growing sobriety... there's a fear of stepping into my gifts, into exercising whatever muscles they will build. There's a fear that I will never make money doing what I love. A fear that I will have no ideas. That my ideas will be bad. There's the sense that I can do what I see in museums, online, commissions I see in the world. There's a sense that I will never do anything. There's a sense that I am not even fully alive without creating - how can I even do that to myself? It's like a subtle form of self-destruction. Hesitation. Fear. Longing to breath, to write, to create.

I must have room for my heart, my gifts, my art in my life. I must make the space, the time. Nothing stands in my way but lies, fear, hesitancy.

I've been saying this inside since 2003. It's been 6 years. I need out. Out of the fear. I have to write, I have to get free from whatever's holding me back. Lord hear my cry...

Chiahuahua.

I find out tomorrow the status of this dog in the Carson shelter that