Courting the Globe

Leggy and Jetty

2012-01-27T01:39:00.004-06:00

Under the full moon light, their day is your night.

You lose 10 hours by the bright of the sun.

Five hour layovers, worse than your 1st hangover.

Immigration, customs and baggage claim baggage.

Herded like cattle to hurry up and wait.

The larger the legs, the longer the lag and before you know it your jet black Pegasus has sprouted another limb...thanks to rainy weather in Dubai or re-routing to Mumbai.

And maybe somehow, three days from now, your brain might catch up with your eyes?

The first full day in Mumbai brought back a lot of memories from the streets of Fajara, The Gambia. Birds are vocal, streets are active and trees are tall and fruity. People were less aggressive than I was expecting, which was a nice surprise! I am so happy to be here and so grateful to be experiencing this culture for the first time with friends. Mysore am yoga...check. Or pm? I don't think I'll be able to tell the difference for a while.

Oh, hey, I'm going to India

2012-01-25T03:27:00.002-06:00

It's here. The day is here and my Pegasus has his wings spread ready for flight. And my desert is yellow and brown and red and orange with a cup-sized cube made of pencils, balancing a ladder made of paper towel rolls, next to a prickly pear cactus and its red cactus rose on its tip. Here we go; the storm is off in the distance, but its electric lightening is no longer shocking. Well, I think that about sums it up.

Out with the old.

2011-12-26T23:07:00.006-06:00

In with the new...year.

This time of year is common for reflection and projection. Did you get to travel to the places you wanted, or spend time with all the people, or read those books or learn an instrument or perfect the 2nd language? No? Well, why the hell not? What do you think inhibited those actions? Are there ways that you might be able to incorporate those activities into your life in 2012? What about in the first half of 2012?

Ever since my birthday and my Nana's departure day, last August, I've been on this huge kick about making the most of my time. Nearly every day, I'll start off by writing down at least three things that I feel are the most important to me that day. I think it's okay to start off vague, but usually I end up getting very specific. Sometimes I draw pictures or work on an existing poem, or makes lists about errands to be run. Basically, I just take about 10 minutes to prioritize my day and figure out what's going to help propel me through its web. Many times what ends up happening is that I accomplish most of what I aim for that day, but if there is something that lingers, I put it at top priority for the next. I don't get down on myself if I cannot cross everything off, but instead, I feel rewarded with all of the things I was able to do and soak in the surprises that I wasn't expecting.

For the first time in many new years, I am excited about the resolution and goal-setting aspect. The other day, I attended a workshop that helped me reflect on this past year, with regard to the seasons and time of year when significant events occured. The I made projections about 2012 and linked them to the seasons, with words and pictures, using a circle to navigate the year. I was so surprised to realize how much I had accomplished last year and it helped re-assure that it's okay to be ambitious this year! A couple of mine include finish my first novel, ride inside a hot air balloon, participate in projects to help improve my community, continue to be available to friends and family, hosts workshops to share other's knowledge about healthy and sustainable ways of living and rejuvenate the USPS by means of getting people to hand write more letters!! I have many more things I'd like to do this next year, but I think it's okay to start out small and expand once you get into the groove of a new project.

Last year, I experienced a lot of loss, but not just with death of family members. I am sure many people experienced similar loss and know what I'm talking about. It's often not something we can prepare for, and loss is bound to happen in this coming year, but I am grateful for what I have gained from personal grief that transformed into personal growth.

If you internalize what it is that you're hoping to gain from this brief blip of a life, then you're one step ahead of the game. Share it with your friends and help them become the best they can be, too. We're all in this together and I'm in it for the long haul!

Happy New Day 2012!

Look No Further Than Local

2011-12-13T11:08:00.003-06:00

Sorry Mom, I will always call Norman, OK my home.

Norman, Oklahoma reminds me of a lot of different things. It makes me think of the early years when I was a student and how excited I was to move away from home for the very first time. I had such a great experience as a student and joined a plethora of clubs and organizations like the rowing team and Alpha Phi Omega. I finally declared social work as my major and gained an entirely new family over at little ol' Rhyne Hall. I don't think you can't help but grow up during those years, and after 5 years of school and consistent relationships, I graduated to another version of myself.

I'll be honest, it took quite a bit of time after moving back from Gambia to feel welcomed back to a place I had spent so much time making memories in. But I went through the process of buying a home, building a new network of amazing and like-minded friends and looking at the community a little differently than I ever had before. I discovered a uniquely colored leaf and turned to examine the underneath side, which was much more interesting and compatible.

Then I embarked on this art and music tour and left for a couple of months. I had always admired those I'd meet that were coming and going, but still called Oklahoma their home, and all of a sudden, I think I am one of them. Normanites claim there's a vortex in the town, and I can attest to that. This time, when I came back, I immediately felt like a piece of the puzzle, returning to its rightful place. After 10 years of coming and going and seeing the same lovely faces, it is clear that there is something about this place. It feels like we are all doing our part to help continue to contribute to making our little bubble beautiful in endless ways.

It's nice to be here for a while, before loading up my pack on my back, once again, to see the other side of the bubble.

Ca$h Money!!

2011-11-19T10:31:00.011-06:00

I'm visiting my parents this weekend in Dallas. It's one of my travel destinations, next of which is Norman for the week of Thanksgiving.

Anyway, I digress....

One of the typical things my family does when I'm home is run errands and see movies. Actually, they do that regardless if I'm here, but I get to tag along when I am. Yesterday, dad and I saw The Descendants, which wasn't too bad. But before that, we went to the post office and to the bank. Sitting there, in the drive through, I witnessed the craziest transaction I'd ever seen. And when we left, I asked my dad if he thought what had just happened was bizarre and he didn't know the slightest thing what I was talking about.

This explains three possible things:

1. I'm way too observant and curious for my own good.
2. My dad is way too oblivious to all of his surroundings.
3. It really wasn't that bizarre, but I thought it was because I'd never seen it before.

Here's what happened:

Right after we pulled into the drive through and sent the transactions through the tube, an armored van pulls up right behind us. The ATM is directly to the left, so an armored man gets out of the van, leaving his sun glassed partner watching from the van like an eagle on its post. The dude gets out his keys and after about 5 minutes of punching codes and unlocking and opening the machine, the world is staring at the ATM's skeleton. Or I am at least. he continues punching numbers and a piece of paper regurgitates with some more numbers, I'm guessing, and then finally, he bends down too far below for me to see him extracting the money. It's like he's doing surgery on the robot ATM and getting paid millions in a matter of seconds.

I keep looking in all my mirrors and at the teller, who has been on the phone the entire time. It's taking a very long time for our transaction to be complete.

Then, after a while of bending down, the uniformed man stands up, turns around, and we lock eyes. He's caught me observing the surgery and although I wasn't doing anything wrong, it felt like I had seen him extracting a kidney to sell on the black market. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time and maybe I had caught on to something that wasn't meant to be witnessed. It felt even more like that when he immediately radioed something on his shoulder, at which point the teller behind the window broke me from my trance by mumbling something about taking a little longer. Sure thing, lady, I'm watching this million dollar transaction occur. Take all the time you need.

After that, he walked to a drive-thru that was 3 spaces away from ours. There was a car to our right, and then a space, and then him. Until, right as he started sending the money (I'm guessing), this unmarked white van pulled into the empty space to the left of him. And then the car next to us left, and the van reversed from his original spot, then pulled into the spot next to us. Finally, after about what seemed like 10 more minutes, the armored car that was just sitting behind us began backing away, then the uniformed man walked to the backed up car and got in. It finally drove completely away. But the white van remained. And then suddenly, the teller turned her attention back to me, apologizing that her assistant had been away and was there anything else she could help us with. No, I responded, and thank you.

Why was I so mesmerized, I wonder, while my father remained completely unfazed?

Today, mom and I took a trip down memory lane, to the square in downtown Carrollton. It brought back memories of the county fair parade and riding in the float that my dance company put together every fall. It reminded me of the days when mom would get us out of school for a doctors apt., then take us to the Rainbow Fountain for an ice cream cone and the chance to sit and spin on our favorite color bar stool. I always chose blue. I thought the antique store next door was boring, but as long as the Rainbow Fountain was in the plan, I could manage to get through antiquing. Then there's the gazebo in the square where I'd pretend like I was Lisle from the Sound of Music, and try to jump from bench to bench. Getting back into the car, mom would put us back in our places if we got out of hand. She had me convinced that if I continued to act out, all she had to do was press the Eject button and I'd be shot out of the car, through the ceiling, like a Wile E. Coyote. I didn't dare challenge the threat. All I know is that I didn't have to learn "the hard way" and that she was a great rearing mother and she still is a great and loving mother.

Tonight a lot of my family gathered to help celebrate my only living grandmother's 80th birthday. Grandma Pat has been in the family since before I was born, after she married my Grandpa, the same year my parents got hitched, in 1980. The number of friends and family who attended, and their age ranges, is a testament to the type of woman Pat Fuller is. I can only hope to one day hear my husband publicly express the kind, heartfelt and supporting words my Grandfather spoke to a room full of loved ones, tonight. And I can only hope to live as long and as full of a life that she has thus far. Just 2 or 3 years ago, I might not have made the short trip or minuscule effort in coming home for the weekend. But somewhere in between, I realized life is too short. I constantly have to remind myself to keep things in perspective. Money should not restrict you from doing the things you love or want to do, and it certainly shouldn't keep you from the people whom you care most about. But sometimes it's that impeding obstacle. But when you're just a kid, nothing can slow you down, right? Not even bank tellers.

Lemonade for Sale: $10

2011-11-13T19:42:00.004-06:00

My sister and I were those kids on our block who often had a table set up on the curbside when the weather was nice outside. Most of the time it was lemonade or some low-sugar fruity drink, but sometimes we went through our rooms and decided to sell things we no longer played with. My sister's claim to fame was that she sold a Troll doll to Derek Harper, who lived down the street. He said it was going to be one of his daughter's birthday presents. We'd perch on on the top of our brick mail box, flagging down the traffic that consisted of a sole car, creeping down the hill, about one for every 7 minutes that passed.

I began babysitting when I was 13 years old. By the time I could drive, I was booking jobs weekends in advance. I'd glance ahead in my planner, realizing that I had jobs lined up each day of the weekend, for the next 2 or 3 weeks. All of a sudden, as I'm typing this, it makes perfect sense! My dating life was obsolete, but I was making bank and got amazing grades throughout all of HS! I had unknowingly developed the habit of multitasking at a very early age, as well as entrepreneurship. Families could depend on me to take care of their kids and their houses and I began to build a reputation as one of those sitters who would tidy the house and wash dishes after the kids went to bed, thus was recommended to friends of existing clients. I remember one Christmas, I bought a stack of blank rectangular magnets and designed a logo on Windows "Paint" program with my name and phone number and job title: Babysitter. After I printed them off, cut them out and adhered the paper to the magnets, I personalized each and every one of them with multi-colored stamps, then gave them out to my client base. I learned from my father that if you develop good business relationships, it's important to recognize them and let them know they're recognized; that the appreciation is mutual.

Now, as an adult and someone who has suddenly found themselves interested in building a reputation in the creative arts industry, I am pulling out those habits developed as a teenager. So far, the repertoire consists of fused glass pieces of jewelry, uniquely designed racks upon which to display your jewelry, collaged light covers, re-used vintage house window glass paintings, and the piece I'm most proud of, my very first poem chapterbook, "The Toothbrush Tales, Vol. I". It's a collection of 10 origi

nal typewritten poems and collaged artwork. I don't have a steady income at the moment, so this is the beginning of my livelihood as a visual and literary artist. I'm calling the idea "Totem Tokens", because it's a hodgepodge of creations and each area represents a different aspect of areas of life. I'm hoping that there might be a duel-purpose token that can offer something to anyone.

Asheville and Memphis have been very productive points of travel. I found an instant community on the Warren Wilson campus in the woods and entered as a traveler and left as a perspective student for the only graduate program offered: An MFA in creative writing. Go figure that I was plopped onto a campus, in the middle of nature, with one of the best writing programs in the country. It was only natural that I'd get inspired to complete the chapbook, I guess.

I caught my first Craigslist ride share to Memphis, to visit my sister. It wouldn't have been possible without my friends from WWC, though, who helped me with meals, a warm place to stay, use of computers, and a ride into town. My ride share was this woman who needed to get home to see to her ailing mother, with the help from her siblings. The situation seemed familiar to what my own mother and her siblings may have experienced, only a couple of months prior, with Nana. My new friend and I cheered each other on, as we spoke similar views about our society; the need to share what we've already got and bartering our services, while reluctantly agreeing that one still has to try to earn money, even though money itself can truly be the evil root of everything.

Something we didn't have in common, though, was the fact that she'd grown up 3 decades earlier, in the deep south. One where she recalls classmates spitting on her chairs before sitting down to try to focus on the day's lessons. One where she remembers being "taught" by means of staring at the backside of her teacher because he had divided the class by race and directed his topics to only the white students. One where she was the first of five total black students to graduate from the de-segregated high school in Batesville, MS in 1969, only to receive her first reunion announcement 40 years later, after Obama obtained office.

In Memphis, my sister and I visited and talked about our plan to reunite the family by relocating us all to Eugene, OR, in 2-4 years. I hope everyone realizes by now that if it's a "plan" I'm a part of, it's going to happen... :) We went on a hike in the Shelby Forest State Park near her house, and I went on runs and set up the Totem Tokens Facebook page and attempted an Etsy account, not to mention, watched a bunch of Netflix. It was awesome.

I'm plotting my next move, that involves touching base in OK for a couple of days before heading off to Dallas, spending Thanksgiving in Norman and continuing travels to points west. The winds are picking up; clinging leaves are becoming chameleons on their branches, at which point they'll be released to the rest of the world. I'll happily continue to join those leaves on their journey.

Birds of a feather, nest and flock together

2011-11-06T10:58:00.003-06:00

For the past couple of days, I've been residing in the valley of the Blue Ridge Mountains, on a small college campus, in the middle of a forest. I have met some very forward thinking and intelligent young adults, who are so excited to gain and utilize their new skills, and furthermore, pass them on to anyone willing to listen.

I opted to stick around the Asheville area, in order to soak up all the natural beauty I could manage, and in return, have managed to become a vicarious student, through my newly developed friendships. One of the main things that I'll be taking away from this experience, is acknowledgement of the importance of balancing friendships on both ends of the age spectrum. The second night, I was invited to this potluck, where the food was garden grown and passion to learn and teach one another was the secret ingredient. It was the best dinner I had tasted while on the road, and it was most certainly because of the love for one another and desire to nourish. After introducing the Wednesday dinner howl from back home, we enjoyed our flavorful feast.

I went for a run the next morning, through a series of trails and ending in an open pasture. As I descended the pasture, gaining ground towards the hill sprinkled with brilliantly autumn-hued trees, my perception was deceived. It was the most bizarre phenomenon I think I have ever experienced. For every step I advanced, the distance felt farther and farther out of reach. It was an experience one might not be surprised to dream, but I became more alert and awake with each new tread.

Sooner than later, I'll advance towards my next travel destination, Memphis. I'll carry with me more than my creation of newly crafted travel tales, yet my load will be lightened and very much enlightened.

What's your favorite type of writing?

2011-11-02T18:36:00.003-05:00

You never know what you'll find, if you never go looking.

This is a picture of the Typewriter Serviceman in DC and this is the typewriter he hand delivered to use while he fixed mine. And then we made a trade, on my request. Of course I paid him for his repair service, parts and labor. Sterling Rich has been in the typewriter parts and repair service for 40 years. I believe I have made a pen pal...

Goldilocks and the Three Boroughs- A NYC Fable

2011-10-28T11:36:00.004-05:00

There was this traveler who came through the big apple to reconnect with friends, seek inspiration and a little solitude. I know what you're thinking; with over 8 million people, how can anyone seek solitude?

The first several nights, this weary traveler felt pampered and cared for by a hometown friend, at the top of an apartment which overlooked Madison Ave, nearly reached the height of the Empire State Building, which she felt like she could reach out and touch. Glittery lights shown through the full length windows, which reflected on the mirrors that lined the other two walls of the master suite. She certainly appreciated the luxury and independence, but felt a bit out of place and nervous about messing things up. Banter with the doormen made up for the awkwardness. One day, she walked all the way down to the Occupy Wall Street and saw a stark difference. She wondered if any of those Occupiers would pass up the opportunity to stay in a pent house apartment for a couple of nights, for comfy bed and a hot shower, if given the chance...

After the Manhattan mid-town trip, she peeked into the life of friends from a not so distant past, but from a completely different world. The upper east side felt safe and comfortable and moderate. Perfect for up and coming professionals. The apartment was larger than she anticipated, hearing stories of outrageous monthly rent. But the underground was a completely different story, especially when she took a wrong train to the wrong stop, plopping her down in the middle of the Bronx in the middle of the night. It reminded her of her first subway experience at 12. A clever scammer stood at the gate, accepting tokens from the group of youngsters who passed though to enter. He probably managed 20 tokens worth of free rides before someone called him out and he made is escape.

The last night, she crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and hunkered down in Bushwick, to stay with another hometown friend. The sentiment and aura of the apartment felt the most comfortable of all, but the neighborhood, well, didn't. She was nervous in a different way this time and for the first time during all of her travels, felt a twinge of homesickness.

However, alls well that ends well, and on the final day of NYC, she reconnected with four friends from another world, which made her feel right at home again. And of course, every fable has a moral, right?

The New York City boroughs are some amazing places, with an amazing history, a vast diversity of ethnicities, amazing food, educational institutions, museums, theaters, parks, lights... the list could go on and on. For the first time, though, the distribution of wealth was displayed out in front like a children's pop up book, each new page full of surprising images. So, be respectful of those who have more, or who have less than you, but don't covet their lifestyles. Embrace what luxuries come your way, and find the silver lining when the clouds turn gray. And then, keep traveling.

Shrinkidinks and Cowinkidinks

2011-10-22T12:38:00.003-05:00

Coincidences. I get a huge kick out of them. But I often wonder if they really are just that? Or if all the little things we call coincidences are leading up to something larger. After all, circumstances that have led to this journey have led to these so called coincidences. Or maybe, it's all just a bunch of junk...

The other day, probably when we were driving through the Adirondack mountains from Albany to Burlington, I was thinking about how I'd like to start typing my poems on an actual type-writer, because I like the font and I like the simplicity. And I'd like to put together a little booklet to share with others to read.

We pulled into Portland, ME on the 18th, with no agenda and no place to stay, so I set up shop at Local Sprouts, a highly recommended c0-op cafe, which didn't disappoint. My decorative light switch covers are making their way into other people's homes, which is so awesome. So I decided to go out to the car to get my supplies to begin making more, and to feed the meter, and when I cam back, I noticed a type-writer sitting on a table, begging to be used. I couldn't believe my eyes and I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it earlier. I asked my new friends behind the counter if it was always there and they didn't know anything about it either, so I sat down and typed a letter which read:

dear my dear friends,

wow, it has been a really long time since i've used one of these :) it was sitting, ready for use here at this cafe in portland, me..can you help me findone of them?? ///? i want to start typing all of my poems one one. i used to have one when i was a kiddo. it's a shame to have gotten rid of it, and my paren'ts awesome 10 speed bike.

[insert poem here]

well, it's time for the owner to use it now. just in time! thank you for reading. this was meant for your reading enjoyment.

love from the road!

Hazle Lee Dove October, 18, 2011

********************************************
Then I sat down and began collaging the covers. The rest of our stay in Portland was wonderful and our CSing hosts were amazing, taking us to lighthouses in the rain and letting me spread out my mess to finish 6 new covers. I even read some poems and attempted some songs at open mic night before Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer blew everyone away.

Fast forward to Cambridge and Boston. It was really comforting to stay with friends from Oklahoma and run through streets so tiny, I felt like I was on the set of a theatrical play. We got to the house show and I met some of the hosts. I walked into my new friend's room and guess what was sitting on her desk? Yep. And she proceeded to tell me she had two, after publicly displaying all of my excitement. So I asked her if she would consider selling one of them to me. It wasn't until after the show that I told her about my plan, and eventually found myself sharing the letter with her. And she thought about it throughout all the beautifully moving music that was performed that evening and afterward told me I could give her $10 for the typewriter that shares the color of a dove. Want to know what really fuels that coincidence flame? My friend is from Peru, which is where the main character of my book is living and doing field work, deep in the Amazonian jungle, with an indigenous tribe that consists of about 50 members.

Yesterday, we walked around Walden Pond State Reservation and later walked around Boston for the purpose of looking for their local Food Not Bombs serving site, only to the Occupy Boston, and coincidentally, the Food Not Bombs information table. It was being manned by the co-founder, who pointed out where the first FNB site took place, across the street, 30 years ago. He stayed with one of my friends from Oklahoma when his car broke down for about two weeks.
http://www.foodnotbombs.net/

Today, I am typing all of this in a penthouse apartment, overlooking about 50 rooftops, and straight down Madison Ave, watching the taxis inch by. Nearly a stones through behind me is the Empire State Building and in front of me, to my right, is the Chryslter Building. I'm staying with a friend from Oklahoma, who told me last night that I'd have a lot in common with her other friend who is also staying with her. She told me she did Peace Corps in West Africa and that they met when they were both living in Burlington. Later, in walked in her friend, it turns we had already met, in The Gambia, because that's where both of us served. I barely knew her then, and barely know her now, but jesus christ, what a coincidence.

10/18/11 Public Service Announcement

2011-10-17T19:35:00.005-05:00

Running through Washington Park, I was swimming though a sea of pink. I passed a group of women and one of them was smoking a cigarette. I didn’t have enough nerve to speak my mind to her about smoking during a Susan G Komen breast cancer Race for the Cure. Perhaps someone else did… Instead though, I told the “Team Granny” survivor congratulations.

I also walked to this amazing neighborhood co-op grocery store. It had the biggest bulk item section I’d ever seen in a locally owned shop and I got brown rice and yellow lentils and granola and dates and chili lime peanuts and peanut butter and also carrots and tortilla chips, all for about $15. The co-op offers so much to its customers, but it doesn’t offer me the crap candy that I eat pretty much on a daily basis, so I walked literally right next door to the dollar store. But the two stores couldn’t have been farther away from one another; practically polar opposites with regard to commodities and customers, yet they shared back walls.

The words to this poem began stirring in my head on the walk back home…

PSA 10/17/2011

Here’s a little advice, from little old me

I’m no one special really

Just one of those apples who happen to fall not too far from the family tree

Faults of my own, faulty wires, a lose screw of one or two

Sticking out like sore thumbs, taking it as it comes

Obsessively compulsing, mind always pulsing, until everything is in its exact place

Now for the tid-bit

Kindly turn the music down, adjust your seats, prepare a new drink and put out the smoke

Excuse me, madam? The smoke?

I’ll forgive you once because perhaps you haven’t got a single clue

About what cigarette smoke can do to my little babe, and even worse, to you

But darling, during this survivor’s walk, you’ve got no place or room to talk

Or we’ll just continue to stop and gawk

And I’m so, so sorry that breast cancer took your best friend’s life

It too has run amok among my own mother’s milk ducts

Now, time for a quick intermission break

Go ahead and choose a snack

But I’d think twice about grabbing that

We learn through practice, must practice what we preach and in turn, preach what we learn

So for cake’s sake and for your salud, let’s get lost in this labyrinth and pick some fruit

Fresh fruit, organic apples, locally grown greens

You’ll find it all here at the Cut Out The Crap community food co-op

You know it, don’t you? It’s right around the corner from the dollar store

Oh, the food here you can’t afford?

You’ll need to leave and shop next door?

Because there you can purchase so much more?

I’m so sorry, my sweet, sweet dear

It makes my blood boil too and it’s just not right

That the 1% can afford to eat so great

And that the 99% will eat so poor

Later, I found myself in another alternate universe, upon landing in Burlington, Vermont. A unique type of tea house, called Dobra (there are only four in the US, including Madison, Burlington, Portland, ME and Ashville), that originated in the Czech Republic. The tea house led to listening to Arabic chanting, which lead to our couch surfing friend telling me about her art hanging at a coffee shop, a quick walk away, which led to my stepping into the place and immediately hearing the words to a song from an artist whose name I didn’t recognize, but had to learn right then that very instant. Because the lyrics referenced flying into Senegal and having crazy lucid dreams from the malaria medication. Which I’ve experienced. So I walked straight to the front counter and asked the barista, who told me it was Elephant Revival. Apparently, two of the band members are from Talequaa, Oklahoma, which is really bizarre because the very next moment, I turn around and see my friend Brooke from Oklahoma, sitting down with a friend, sipping coffee.

Piecing together the peace to the corps

2011-10-15T19:27:00.004-05:00

I usually remember my dreams when I'm first waking up in the morning. Lately though, for some strange reason, I haven't been able to remember any of them. Perhaps it's because of the constant travel? I know that I'm dreaming, because I'll acknowledge it a tiny bit before I'm fully awake. Then, the other night during a show, after telling the story of our music and art journey, a man said something that confirmed my theory. He said, "Man! We'll you're just living the dream, aren't you?!"

We've been in AAAlbany for a couple of days. (That one's for you Aaron and Andrew Adams). It's beautiful, even in the rain. Last night we played for free ice cream at a gourmet ice cream and candy shop, I mean, uh, heaven. This morning I went on a run and in the afternoon the three of us explored the capital city of New York state. On the way to a tea shop, I mean, uh, Joey's version of heaven, we strolled through a rolling park, along a modest river. Words and the melody to a new song followed me like a little puppy, all the way through the park, but once we emerged to traffic lights and juice bars, it left my mind and this particular tiny pup song may be lost forever, only to follow and inspire another...

New York is beautiful in the autumn. The images of the colors of trees are stained glass, into my mind like a daguerreotype. But unfortunately that's what they'll remain, since the card in my camera decided not to cooperate recently. In Buffalo, the show was canceled unexpectedly just hours prior to playing. Unfortunate news at first, but we learned a valuable lesson after discovering an open mic night AND booking a last minute show at Nietzsche's Bar. Our initial misfortune became my very first appearance as Hazle Lee Dove, poet, singer/song writer and glockenspiel dinger, at the legendary Elmwood Lounge. Okie Opie's Night Club fans and "Cuckoo's Nest" enthusiasts would have felt right at home at the Elmwood Lounge. It felt like the three of us were extras the missing open mic night scene in Milos Forman's 1975 film. By the end of the night, the guys had sold a bunch of CDs and we made nearly 2 tanks of gas worth in tips and art sales, which put a new spin on the DIY aspect of our travels. After Buffalo, we stayed the night in Rochester with a wonderful couple of PhD candidates and couch surfing hosts whose personal library collection was so expansive that Joey and Cody wanted to cancel the rest of the tour and bury their noses in books.

Peace Corps will continue to bring treasures in the form of returned volunteers, along this tour. The Gambia RPCV hospitality is gold. I'm certain it has to do with knowing how amazing and refreshing a shower and a vertical resting position is at the end of a long journey. I'm am enjoying seeing friends I haven't even had contact with in years and introducing the guys to them and catching up, even if only for an afternoon. I'm about to discover an entire mine in the NYC/Washington DC area. Thanks to everyone with whom we've stayed and all those with whom we may stay. You are helping make our travels rested, clean and safe.

Next we're off to Vermont, where I'm certain to go into a glucose or sucrose coma with all that maple syrup. I'll write some letters for the novel and begin selecting images for new light switch covers. I've sold all but 5 of the original 16.

Michigan, Again, Again

2011-10-14T19:53:00.000-05:00

Ahead of me I see rows of clouds the letter C

And all around, on the ground, a sea of fields of grains and greens

I’m soaring by, an open road, fueled by friends and lovers and mothers and brothers

That cover me like an heirloom blanket until I’m homeward bound

Okay, wear your OK home on your heal, and your heart in my hand

Because home is where your heart is and

Now their home is where your art is

So, Mr. Blue Bird sits perched on my shoulder

It’s true, it’s factual

This dance of living is extremely satisfactual

Home is where the heart is, now their home is where your art is...

2011-10-12T08:55:00.002-05:00

Have you ever met anyone who works for a company that makes those little latches for the stalls in the public restrooms? Yeah, neither have I. But if you think about it, like I did while staring directly at one this morning, someone, probably lots of someones, does. Because they exist and they exist everywhere, all around the world. And as someone who, as Cody put it “has the bladder of a 90 year woman”. “Golf ball sized”, added Joey. I have unconsciously stared at more than my fair share of those latches.

On my way back to the States from Gambia to see my family for Christmas in December 2007, I sat next to a guy who worked for a company that sold fluorescent light rods to hospitals. We talked on the subject for about an hour, while I thought to myself that I’ve also held hour conversations with physicists and in reality, I could even talk for an hour to a log.

After attending Nana’s memorial, and hearing her described by others as “having never met a stranger”, I’m thinking I must have inherited Universal Conversational Disorder from her. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t always like to talk. I do, however, find interest in so many things and find human beings very, very fascinating.

Someone once told me that you should say at least four words to a toll attendant when you stop to pay a road toll. I’ve also heard they have a higher suicide rate than other professions, which leads me to end asking questions about their families and their most prized possessions… I suggest you try it next time.

So much has happened over the last week! We camped out in Chicago for four nights, visiting friends and family. I stayed with a friend from the Peace Corps and visited with another one, one evening. Cody and Joey stayed with a friend from OK one night and Cody’s brother the others and I enjoyed independence and autonomy during in Chicago. I spent my time with the Okie pal, biking around and enjoying the weather, eating good food and thrifting. The shows were fun and some CDs and art was sold. From there, I took a detour back to Oklahoma, stopping a night in Kansas City to pick up a friend who was also attending the Brileen wedding. The guys took buses to their shows in Sagatook, Mt. Pleasant and Grand Rapids, MI, which provided their own, very interesting material for stories, lyrics, letters and journals. Next time you see them, ask them how their ride went.

Norman was just as wonderful as always. Brian and Kathleen began their wedding by singing a duet to “I only have eyes for you” as their entrance to us guests. That should set the scene for the rest of the night. And so many friends, I saw, in such a short amount of time. It was incredible, really, and so was the hospitality. I renewed the car for another month, went to a yoga class and a wedding, check in and got an update with the friends who are subletting the house, ran a couple of times, unpacked and repacked what was left in the car, visited with people contributing to the tour in non-monetary ways, sold some of our art to dear friends, all in the time span of about two days. It was a busy but fruitful visit. On Oct 9^th, I began the trip back to meet the guys in Grand Rapids, staying the night again in Kansas City. The next day, I began the solo 10 hour drive. It actually wasn’t as rough as I anticipated, especially thanks to Sarah and Jeanne, who loaned me their music players. I discovered ways to entertain myself and before I knew it, Blue Valley Farmer, Luna Moth and I were physically embracing each other and we were off to Ann Arbor to cut down on the next day’s drive to Buffalo, NY.

In Ann Arbor, we had a short, but very sweet visit with Aunt Kay, who, among countless other friends and family members, is helping make this tour possible for us. I am so grateful we all got to meet each other and learn more about everyone’s endeavors and passions. She gave us excellent advice, as innovators and creators about copyrights and trademarks. Aunt Kay, our gratitude is endless, for your wisdom and belief in us.

And now for the Empire State…

2011-10-04T13:15:00.005-05:00

I remember being 3 years old and voluntarily and excitedly following the nurse into the operating room, with Barbie in tow, for security. I remember hoping on the bed, laying back and a minty flavored mask being placed over my nose and mouth. Barbie got one too. I remember being carried outside to the car, in my father's arms. The sunlight was painfully bright, but I couldn't see a single thing, due to the patches placed over my eyes. I'm not sure if my first memory was that corrective eye surgery, but it sure stands out.

I remember sitting next to Meme in the car, squeezing her doughy hand, on the way to Beavers Bend. It was one of the most comfortable places I could have been. My family was on our way to one of the numerous traditional trips to the beautiful Oklahoma state park. I don't remember how old I was.

It was my 17th Halloween. I remember slamming on the breaks of the blue Taurus Meme willed to me after her death, three days after my 16th birthday, only to crash into the passenger side of the tiny car. I was going 55 miles an hour and pushed it all the way into a pole on the other side of the street. I remember the air bag inflating and my adrinaline pulsating through my body. My immediate concern was my 13 year old sister in the passenger seat. I got out, went around and pulled her out of the car so fast, it's the only part I don't really remember. We stood shaking, then sitting, as cars began to slow down and stop, then ask for my parent's phone number. The male driver from the other car emerged wearing a dress, high heels, and a blond wig. His absent passenger would have perished, I'm certain now.

I remember our family trip to Anchorage to visit my aunt and uncle. We went salmon fishing and I caught my first and only fish in life, thus far. My uncle was so proud, he gave me a kiss on the lips. I don't remember my age.

I have lots of memories. But the reality is, I've lost most of the ones I've made. It's the simple truth and unfortunate fact of being a human. And without audio, video, or film documentation, even more of them could have vanished. When I discovered writing and drawing, an entirely new creative form of preserving memories was at my fingertips. Even more confusing, though, is the idea that bad memories seem to stick around longer than the good ones.

I'm certain there are many memories from this tour that I will not have to write down or take pictures of in order for them to remain imprinted in one of my brain wrinkles (to take from a lyric in one of the songs from our gracious hosts' band French Films about Trains in Cologne, MN). However, as one may be able to tell, I'm not taking too many chances by posting these online thoughts, taking pictures and keeping my own little personal journal.

Minneapolis was awesome. I'm glad we visited and they played in September, because I don't like the cold, and the weather was perfect. Same for Cologne and Chicago. We've had beautiful fall weather and have been really really fortunate. The show was successful in Minneapolis, even though it transformed from practically an acoustic show to a straight up techno dance club within minutes. Our hosts were so so wonderful. They shared their food, cooking more than once, floor space, bicycles and wisdom. I got to see an old Okie friend and ride around on a bike for about 2 hours, along gardens and creeks and through greenways. I did yoga and picked up some tidbits for the book.

In Cologne, our hosts played music, loaned us their family canoe, gave us each our own beds, not to mention cooked the most amazingly delicious dinner of vegan chili and beer bread and breakfast of muffins and hot apple granola crisp before we made the long drive to Chicago. I went running along the farm roads lined with corn and marveled at the leaves changing to colors of yellows, reds and oranges that I forgot even existed.

Chicago has been so nice and familiar and relaxing. I'm staying with a friend from my Peace Corps days and it has been enjoyable to have freedom and alone time. I'll be making the drive back to Norman in a couple of days to renew our rental car and attend a good friend's wedding, before meeting the guys in Michigan to head onto Buffalo, NY. Detours in life just help to get us back on track, right?

La vida de la paloma

2011-10-01T20:18:00.003-05:00

Language lessons,
Laughter without laughing creates guttural laughter, all the ways to tears

These boy by my side, drive me crazy at times, driving me across the country

We see tiny winged green fairies, acorn caps for hats, brown bucks staring back until we're staring at the white tail

Music lessons, lessons in life, lessons in love, lessons for learning

We rescue food, but in reality, it rescues us
Keeping us strong, carrying us on

Everywhere I glance, the blue bird perches on the posts
Taking my letters in its beak, delivering pages and delivering peace

A piece of my mind, with some peace of mind
Piece by piece, we connect the states

Midwest Quest...9/?-9/!

2011-09-29T19:16:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I feel like I'm a 90 year old woman, other times I feel like 9 year old, carefree and craving constant attention. It's life. It's patience. It's practice. It's practicing patience. It's sharing thoughts and experiences and memories and ideas and hugs and kisses and sarcasm and toasts and successes and misfortunes. It's exercising your body and your rights. It's keeping in touch with people you love though letters and phone calls and this day in age, emails and online social networks and above all, keeping it all in perspective. It's doing what you love and making every day count, because, well, what else is there?

The sun showed its rays in Lincoln, NE. I felt it on my face and all the way to my bones. What a warm relief from spending the night in sub-zero temps, in Lawrence, KS. The weather wasn’t cold in Lawrence, but sadly, the artificial air in our kind hosts’ apartment made it feel like we were camping in the Himalayas. (With running water and electricity and fried chicken and soda pop).

The days are beginning to run together, which is not necessarily negative, by any means. And the northern leaves are changing into beautiful lovely patterns of paint by number pictures. The show in Kansas City was quaint and I reunited with my first Peace Corps friend since being on the road. It had been about 2 years since we last saw each other, which will be the case for most of the folks, and it was awesome to see her and catch up, even for just an evening. I know that’s something we’re all excited about-reconnecting with our friends that are sprinkled all around the country, like glitter that lands in your hair and only sparkles when you turn in a certain direction. After KC, we drove to Lincoln, NE and spent tour funds on a place to sleep for the first time since we left home. I wonder when the idea of staying in hotels became less preferable than crashing on a complete stranger’s couch, for me, or for anyone, but if you play your karmic cards right, you’ll meet some of the most amazing folks in the foreign town through which you’re passing. And many times, by the time you depart, you can’t wait to come back and visit your new friends and the newly familiar places.

We stayed two nights in Lincoln, where the boys played a house show, with more friendly folks. After Lincoln, we drove about 400 miles to Fargo, ND, which was just about the right amount of time to perfect our northern accents and joke about asking everyone where we could meet Steve Buscemi and Frances McDormand. We had a night off, after driving all day and Joey treated us to the movie, Contagion. All I can say about the movie, as someone who doesn’t follow new releases or box office sales, was that I’m guessing it didn’t go viral.

We stayed with the most gracious CouchSurfing hosts, on this tour, in Fargo. If it didn’t snow like 8 feet 8 months out of the year, it would be an awesome town in which to live. The girls we stayed with volunteered at a women’s bike collective and I got to ride a bicycle to the show!! Everyone in the town was so nice and the girls were incredibly generous, sharing their food, their sleeping space, and even coming to see the guys play. I personally enjoyed this set list the most, so far. The town also encourages not driving your car on Tuesdays, I saw picketing in action, did yoga under tall trees in the park, went on a run along a wooded bike path, spent time on the novel and now have freshly clean clothes. Cody was even able to fulfill his dream to watch Fargo, in Fargo. Endless thanks to our new family in Fargo. Come to OK, ladies, okay?!

The art is selling pretty well, too and helping us get by, tank by tank, along with the gracious tips from gracious folks we encounter at coffee shops, bakeries, house shows, music venues. We are so thankful to all of our friends, family and artists who contributed goods and beautiful works to help is get from one town to the next. The decorated light switch covers are a hit, as is the vegan soap that Cody's friend donated to us. Check out her website for those holiday gifts coming up:

http://gratefulhands.org/ I think 50% of proceeds may go to the tour right now, too.

We’re back on the road, on our way to Minnesota. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful rumors about Duluth and Minneapolis, and the folks putting on the show in Cologne couldn’t be more ecstatic about Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer gracing the town with their melodic magic.

Time traveling to Columbia, MO 9/23

2011-09-23T20:33:00.005-05:00

I can hear the rain drops falling before they blur the ink on my note pad. Our travels have been skies of gray, with a brisk, yet refreshing chill in the air- a pleasant reminder that autumn has arrived. At the moment, this weather comforts me.

Springfield, IL was youthful, and led me to feel introverted. I borrowed the glockenspiel and placed bell-like sounds with words I planned to sing. I am pleased with the product and since more of the like will emerge on this journey. Tonight, at a house show in Columbia, MO, Hazle Lee Dove will perform her first song, opening for Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer.

Joey celebrated his birthday in Springfield, a couple of days ago, entering into the final year of his 20s... We're in the same boat now, floating down the same ravine, sharing a similar revere. He received a really unique birthday present that we all three got to experience. In addition to 4 orders of hasbrowns at the Waffle House, the we time traveled together. He turned 29 not once, but twice, as we drove from Louisville, KY after midnight, then crossed back into central time, arriving in Springfield, where got a second chance as a 28 year old, and mooned the country side for his final act.

It got really fun in St. Louis. We saw friends from Oklahoma and stayed with folks we hadn't just met that very day. I reunited with Alfie the robot, one of my favorite toys from my childhood. Leave it up to a musician to turn it into a theremin. It was like we were still time traveling, because in addition to Alfie and the 2nd birthday, gas cost $2.98/gallon. Also awesome? The St. Louis Bread Co that runs on suggested donations. A must visit for any weary traveler. And the City Museum downtown, where Cody and I peered at each other in a life sized-kalidescope, and ran on a giant hamster wheel. Oh, and we washed our clothes. Sort of. And I bought a tank top from a dude who is obsessed with the no-chocking symbol, putting it on everything from clothes to his own car. Good conversation starter at the very least.

Next stop, Ames, IA...

Pine Cone #1

2011-09-22T10:41:00.003-05:00

Moody and Maud
Winter, not god
This time of year
Brings me no cheer

But you're so sweet
My soul's in heat
My saving grace
By which to face

This no good time of year.

Lousiville, KY 9/19

2011-09-19T18:40:00.004-05:00

This is what happens when you leave your comfort zone:

You find yourself meeting strangers who remind you of past lovers.

Strangers find that you remind them of their 30-year old self, 30 years ago.

You drive to the wrong side of town, then, minutes later, you find yourself sitting, sipping tea that tastes like camp fire, where newspaper comics serve as doilies, across the street from the wrong side of town, where the bright blue neon lights of the White Castle reflect on your antique porcelain mug.

It's easy to forget to breath when you're sharing the same air.

Yesterday, we explored Bloomington, Indiana. I got spoiled by the wooded pathways on the University grounds. Collective housing, co-op grocer's, a pot luck house show at The Switchyard, and a-cappella singing sisters, set an excellent atmosphere for breathing. But meditating inside a Buddhist monastery and practicing sun-salutations beneath prayer flags strung from the leafy-green skies, was the ultimate breath of fresh air.

We made it to Louisville, after an unnecessarily long amount of time spent in the car. Apparently, a 2 hour jaunt turns into nearly 5 hours, when the city announces a bridge closer, due to cracks.. Less frustrating when you find out the reason for the extended car confinement.

Looking forward to the first day off, tomorrow. I have hopes of walking in woods, meditating and writing and exploring a little further outside the cramped quarters of the comfort zone.

Conway, AR Locust Pocus 9/15/11

2011-09-17T13:20:00.003-05:00

The road was kind to us yesterday. We left Norman on its first rainy day of fall, with a tiny car packed to the brim with homemade quilts, comfort food, local art from friends, music in our hearts and driving in our minds.

Our journey was pleasant, on the way to Conway, and the house show hosts were benevolent, not to mention amazingly creative and talented musicians. For the first ti

me in a long while, I longed to package their songs in a tiny CD case and listen to them in the form of a CD, while we were on the road. To my disapointment, though, they didn't have them recorded. Which means, I'll be trying to recreate the song that hooked me in and lulled me to experience the emotions they may have felt when writing the lyrics, in my head, nonetheless.

Luna Moth and Blue Valley Farmer were incredibly well received!! Joey sold his entire discography, among other single CDs, as did Cody! We also sold some homemade soap, an Oklahoma chapter zine, and I sold a decorated light switch cover! Not bad for a first show. :)

Last night we drove to Memphis and stayed with my sister and

her boyfriend. Next stop is Nashville, TN...

And we're off...

2011-09-16T01:41:00.003-05:00

Norman, Oklahoma, you are a tiny treasure town.

Last night, I felt the warmth and love from close friends, and mere strangers. Our house show/ tour kick off was a blissful success and by the end of the night, I felt wrapped in golden vibes, ready to be sent off like one of the many post cards that will surely be mailed, from the road.

Endless thanks from our town and comrades. You will be in my heart for the next 3 months. For now, new sights and sounds and smells and tastes await. Time to hit the highway.

The Road Most Traveled.

2011-09-14T14:04:00.002-05:00

This month's full moon is beginning to wane, and the wind is blowing cooler air across my eyelashes. Something is changing in this atmosphere. Something is changing in the skies. Something is always changing.

We're gearing up for our 3 month music and art national caravan tour, beginning with a music and art local house show at my house tomorrow night, in Norman, Oklahoma. We leave on Friday, and I feel like there is so much to do and so little time. I don't remember the last time I've felt this way. I don't remember the last time I've been this excited.

From the moment it was decided that I would travel with the boys, paths continued to clear, to allow for this process to happen. We have been fortunate to not have very many obstacles to clear, thus far. Thank you. Joey lost his wallet a couple of days ago at the final summer concert at Lion's Park. We had accepted the loss of money, ID, and memory of the Tibetan wallet that he cherished. We began the process of mourning and moving on from the loss, (he had already purchased a new ID) so the next time we road by the park to check one final time, his grass colored wallet appeared to me like a giant emerald. Everything recovered.

It's been days and nights of creating resourceful and practical art out of as much recycled materials as possible, to take with us to sell on the road. It's been days and nights of focusing on health and well being, exercise and relationships with friends and family that I will think about and write to, while on the road.

Mom came for a visit, and left with the dog. It's strange not having the black furred boy-boy passed out next to me on the floor, and barking incessantly at the mail man.

I love these days and nights of preparing to depart, even though they bring twinges of stress. I know I will love the days and nights on the road, seeing new sights and meeting new friends, writing new thoughts and creating new works.

This dove is about to fly in all directions and so are the leaves.

Dreadlocks and Blondies

2011-09-09T09:37:00.003-05:00

If there was a story about a boy with one, single dreadlock and a girl who grew up in a suburb of Dallas and went to school in the Lewisville school district, who lived on Comanche Street in Norman, Oklahoma, I couldn't imagine that description fitting more than one boy and one, girl.

I woke up this morning, realizing the irony of the situation, where one boy with a dread in his head, and one girl with an education from Lewisville, Texas, residing on Comanche Street will soon embark on a a 3 month journey around the entire nation, while one boy with an ex-single dread, and one girl with the same education, will replace the soon-t0-be nomads on Comanche, while settling down from their own nomad life-style, with their two young boys.

Stay tuned for the story, I think this one could have a very interesting plot...

P.S. RSVP

2011-09-02T02:59:00.000-05:00

Today I leaned just exactly how much Nana shared her family with the rest of the universe, through her words.

When Mom first asked me, on the phone, if I wanted to speak at the wake, I burst into tears. Speak? At a wake? Whose wake? What wake? I hadn't yet been to Dallas, and although I knew the reason for the wake, I was removed somehow from the situation. Confirming to speak at the wake was confirmation that I'd never receive another letter in the mail from Nana. And that was something I just couldn't accept at the moment. After a few days, though, I had processed the request, and thought, maybe I could read something. One of the letters, maybe. Maybe one she sent me while I was in Gambia. I realized it was the very least I could do. That she deserved to have every single person in the sanctuary stand up at the alter and honor Nana in their own way.

A couple of nights ago, I sat down with a stack of letters from Gambia, and came across one with her hand made monogram stationary. MF was written at the top, and below read "Remember, you're my angel". Immediately, even before re-reading it, I knew it was the one. The content pretty much painted the quintessential Nana portrait, including "Wheel of Fortune", Mother's Day with my mom and dad, an update about my sister, questions about my life, talk about stamps and postage and bus rides, making me feel like I was the most important person in the whole wide world.

When I arrived at the church this afternoon, the familiar faces were somber and faces frowned. Our hugs were sincere, but I had a secret weapon in my purse. Somehow, her letter protected me from imminent sadness. Because I knew in my heart, she was with me then, just as she is with me now, and always, through her words. And like the arrangement of flowers, a handful of received letters were displayed for viewing. My eyes navigated towards my handwriting, which led to me discover the last letter I had mailed her, dated August 16th, the day before she passed. It was the reply to the birthday card I had received the prior day. I couldn't bring myself to open it.

Instead, I stood up in front of the crowd, honored Nana the way she deserved, and before too long, the service concluded. Afterwards, folks I had never even met came up to me and we spoke as if we were the oldest of friends. Nana had connected us through her written words. She had made local celebrities out of her family members, talking us up, passing on her thoughts and concerns to neighbors and friends. It was an interesting situation, but if that doesn't scream unconditional love, you're listening to the wrong band.

Afterwards, we gathered at my other late grandma's house. As I swayed on Meme's backyard bench swing, listening to the cacophony of cicadas in the old Dallas trees, the new sliver of the moon caught my eye. Just then, a single bird flew passed the crescent, and the day was complete.

2011-08-27T03:32:00.009-05:00

"Do you have all your senses"? This was the next question Hailey asked me (whose name I had already read on an upside down down sticker on the front of her pink shirt-a stark reminder to almost anyone with the sense of sight that the first week of 3rd grade had officially begun) after my name, and whether I could sit and talk to her until her Nana came back. You see, she had dropped her blind cane and I picked it up, because Hailey only had four of the five senses, which she then scholastically recited to the entire DHS waiting room. I found out by asking that her favorite one was taste, and her Nana agreed. Hailey then inquired if she could read me a story, which she wrote. Junie B. Jones was playing and falling and jumping in my thoughts all day long. This little stranger was a happy and cheerful child, with an imagination that extended as far as her mind could see. Although she may not have had all five of her senses, at least she had her favorite one. And most importantly, she had her Nana...

I sure am one fortunate human to have so many wholesome and spectacular people in my every day world. I am grateful beyond words for their continued kindness, generosity and volunteerism and recognize the true value of the relationships. This feeling has grown significantly stronger in the past year, but I'm not sure if it's because of a conscious effort to reciprocate the generosity or pay it forward, or because each individual relationship just as important as another, to me.

This past week as been another whirlwind. But in a good way. The shed is now under local anesthesia, and well on its way to getting a karmic, as well as a physical face lift, with the efforts of a handful of amazingly generous individuals. It is an amazing journey to be involved in the transformation of something that allows for collaborative creativity with regard to something that will end up benefiting several different parties.

In preparation for this 3 month long Oklahoma music and art caravan tour featuring Luna Moth, Blue Valley Farmer and many contributing Oklahoma visual artists, I need to sublet my entire house and property, fund raise and promote as much as possible, spend time arting and preparing to keep records and document the travels, and most significantly, mentally and physically prepare to write this book. As each day draws nearer to departure, links continue to add themselves to the chain. Last week, after hand making sublet signs to post around town and in front of my yard, I went to my yoga studio and took a class from the person who will be renting the shed. I ended up practicing side by side with a friend I hadn't expected to see, nor had I seen in about 8 years. We caught up a little, which included letting her know about wanting to sublet my house. The very next day she contacted me asking if it was okay to give out my number to someone who may be interested. It turned out to be an old friend from the college ultimate Frisbee days and his family. They will move in September 16th and will stay for 3 months, while transitioning back to life in town, and as I transition to life on the road. The lesson that I took away from this experience was that, for as much promoting as I had done earlier in the day, all I needed to do was something good for myself, served by the yoga class, and this action helped create something else positive and mutually beneficial.

Here is a link to the website where you can help support and contribute while we are on the road. For every dollar you give, your generosity will be reciprocated, with hugs, letters, trees, music, art, and of course, karma. :) Endless thanks for your support!!

http://www.indiegogo.com/Luna-Moth-Blue-Valley-Farmer-US-Tour-2011

Wednesday, I will travel down to Dallas to be with my family for Nana's memorial. I will see many many people whom were very dear to her. They will have many stories about Nana and her incredibly habitual letter writing. Letters will be read, letters will be written, and letters will be recovered and re-distributed. The memorial and time spent with family will be challenging in many ways, but I know that it will help propel me towards traveling.

When I return, another friend from the Peace Corps will come visit. We spent our critical training days in the same village for three months, which means we have a unique bond that will hold us together like glue, no matter what age of life, nor location. I haven't seen him in over 2 years, and I'm thrilled beyond words or actions that he's coming to see the life I've created after the Peace Corps.

I have so much to be grateful for and recognize the importance of telling and showing the people involved in this process. Send a text, make a phone call, say a greeting, or write a letter, the old fashioned way. It will make a difference in someone's life, I guarantee it.

Oh, and I also had a slip n' slide birthday party... :) It's okay, I only just turned 29.

Red Wind

2011-08-26T11:24:00.002-05:00

Wind the color of red can be seen through the trees

Just one reason the wind can even be seen

If it were not for whispering leaves, the wind wouldn’t be heard

It would not be felt, but for the nerves in our skin

Which makes me nervous to think trees don’t have this pleasure

For they are one beautiful reason

Why we can even experience he wind

Coming to terms, by coming of age

2011-08-18T18:01:00.009-05:00

We can only hope to become wiser, as we age, and not the other way around. :) I've only been 29 years old for 3 days, but I've already learned incredibly valuables lesson and come to terms with a couple of things in this new year.

As my previous post divulged, relationships with people whom I care deeply about are a high priority in this lifetime. When I was in Morocco, I realized I wanted to let those people know, more and more often. I made a point to visit my mother's mom, Nana, and call Grandma and Grandpa before leaving Dallas to come back to Norman. Then I called to check up on both of them about a week and a half ago, or so. This week, I made a note in my planner to check in again, on Monday, the day before my birthday. Later, the thought came to mind that they'd be phoning ME the next day, so decided to hold of. I received a birthday card from Nana that day, so in a way she had spoken to me. Inside was a note so beautiful that I immediately felt compelled to respond and write back. The strange thing was that she didn't include her habitual self addressed reply card. Fortunately, I had some stocked up from previous letters, so used one of those. As I was writing the date, the 16th, it also occurred to me that my father's mother had passed away 13 years ago, only 3 days after my 16th birthday. She had been sick for a while and it was nearing her time. I compared the two mothers, chillingly, for a split second, then replied to her note, sealed and stamped it and immediately placed it on the mail clip.

The next day, the first phone call I received was from my father, wishing me a happy birthday. I was having one of the happiest birthdays I could recall probably ever. I was on my way to my favorite state park, Beavers Bend, in south eastern Oklahoma, with my dog in the back seat and my new roommate in the front. Besides the fact that I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone camping, Beavers Bend evokes incredibly wonderful memories from different stages of my life. A long-time Gilman family tradition, the first time I appeared on the Beavers Bend scene was in my mother's womb. Our family has been returning pretty much annually, since then, and I have come to known parts of the beauty and glory of the park like the back of my hand. Each year brought new memories and stories to tell, as new creases appeared on my aging hand. And, like new lines that have yet to appear, there will always be more territory to explore.

The conversation eventually led to the announcement of Nana ending up in the hospital. I immediately thought of the prior day and wondered, but didn't read into the announcement too skeptically. The entire day was spent surrounded by so much beauty, in so many ways, and as a single crane flew from over my shoulder, into the clouds at the top of my favorite trail, I came to terms with the potential outcome that suddenly felt imminent.

The very next day, my inspiring, thoughtful and kind Nana passed away. A complete and utter shock and surprise, the previous days' circumstances are something that I have continued to replay in my head over and over again.

The lessons I speak of are short and sweet, albeit tough pills to swallow right now. I will trust my internal feelings, not only when it comes to telling people what's on my mind, before the moment passes, but to listen closely to my heart in general, so my favorite book becomes the one in which I star.

I have also come to terms with the fact that, no matter how many positive souls surround my own, there will always be a handful of ghastly ghouls that do not deserve my time or energy. I continue to see the moon half full, and can only hope to emit an eighth of that light to the beloved characters that help fill my pages.

Nana is my inspiration for slowing down, trusting internal feelings and above all, communicating with letters and staying in touch, the old fashioned way. Nana, cheers to your love, and to your life! ♥ May you live on through your written words...

The present just may be the best present.

2011-08-13T02:31:00.005-05:00

It's all really just beginning to hit me. Where was I two weeks ago? Not where I am today, which is what actually matters. Who the hell knows where I'll be two weeks from now, but I hope to my late grandmother's pillow that it involves something with an income. I'm not sure I quite remember the last time I felt this particular since of loss, as a result from an enormous life transformation. I suppose it was when I completed my Peace Corps service and began the transition back to an American lifestyle, in America. At least there was an attempt to direction and guidance. And, I didn't have a mortgage to pay... (Obviously, I made the move into The American's dream just fine). Now, here I am, over two years later, rowing in a similar boat, against the current. And it has barely rained at all this summer.

If someone told me they were leaving a job that they really cared about and extremely enjoyed, it would be hard for me to understand why. Obviously, there are the right reasons, but it's difficult to see that when you're caught up in the tangled web. Suddenly, there are new urgency's to make sense of. If you weren't already in survival mode, you best get your ass into high gear and make every single day count. Fortunately, during this round in the ring, I've got a familiar crowd providing advice and cheer leading from the sidelines.

I am going to miss so many amazing things and moments about the job I've known for the past two years. There are a handful of things and moments that I am absolutely relieved to be letting go. It's crazy to write, but I've never really had to actively search for a "job" before. I don't envy others in my position, but still, I am grateful for the opportunity for discovering what's behind another door. I've fallen in love with Norman for a third time, and I know it's got something to do with this current transition. I am a strong believer in things working themselves out, as long as you're actively participating in your own life.

Right now, I'm excited about the opportunities to consciously dedicate time to creating things like visual art, written language, and sustained relationships in the community. As I age one more year, and celebrate this particular day on Tuesday, I am grateful for all that I've experienced and all whom I've met over my lifetime, because it/they is/are what has helped shape who I am at this present moment. I look forward to being able to continue to positively contribute to this Earth, which we all share, for the remainder of it.

Okay, now it's time to dedicate it to a full moon bike ride. :)

2011-08-10T01:11:00.005-05:00

Even though I've had an incredibly rewarding and amazing job, whose mission I fully and wholeheartedly support, while working with so many amazing mentors and board members, and among all, children, it was overshadowed by negativity. A one-sided conflict; I forced myself to overlook the harshness and simply focus on improving the program, for almost 2 years. But in the long run, a force finally led me to re-evaluate my self worth. It's exactly what we try to pass on to the kids in our program; to be kind and treat one another with respect and dignity. What kind of ship would I be steering if I continued to let the negativity sabotage my, or worse, the program's potential? I am incredibly sad to bid farewell to so many kind and positive people with whom I worked, however, I am eternally grateful to be shedding myself of the unnecessarily large amount of time spent on the negativity, over which I have no control. And I've already experienced some great things as a result of this removal.

Suddenly, I am glancing in the direction of a birch tree-line path along a river, instead of diving head first into a brick wall. Who knows where this path will lead, but I am grateful to where the past two years have led, and the two before that, and the two before that, so I am certain that this will be just as well.

Today I enrolled in two beginning art classes at the community college. This time around, I get in state tuition, thank you baby jesus. It is one of the first steps I will take in order to gain experience in the field of art therapy. The road will be long, if I continue along this path, but I feel that it is as close to a calling that I'll ever recognize, so I'm willing to hit the ground running. In the mean time, I'm still looking for a part time job in a clinical social work setting, so I can begin supervision towards becoming an LCSW.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the most amazing and vibrant path of light move across the night sky. Fortunately, I was able to share it with someone else. Then, two days later, I saw another light streak, same brightness in a slightly different hue. I shared this sight with the exact same person. Two days ago, I saw a slight beam of light move across the night sky. I still wonder if they saw it, too. This time I made a wish.

So many changes and so many lions. What are they all roaring about? Right now, my roar is relief. It's also time for new roommates and I wonder whom they will be. My current ones are amazing and I'll miss them immensely. I continue to be grateful for all the wonderful people I know and remain in my life throughout the years. I've been spending my time working on and constructing fictional stories. Maybe someday they will come to life on someone elses pages...

Shit, Shaque

2011-08-07T23:33:00.000-05:00

It’s a funny funnel-shaped bottle cap.

A twist off the ol’ block

Black tar, yellow lines, blue tears, brown nose.

What’s it worth to you?

Pick the scab, bloody beets

Cut it short, cut the shit

Take off your hat and blow me a kiss

Sing alongs, musical merry-go-rounds

Passing them off, as if they were pros

Blasting the black canon

Balls to the wall

2011-08-06T18:12:00.003-05:00

So, it has taken me a while to justify writing about my thoughts with the public, once again. “Blogging” is so very interesting to me. What makes someone want to read about someone else’s life on the Internet? Is it more interesting to read about a complete stranger, compared to someone who lives in the same town? Or what about someone you once knew pretty well, but they’ve moved away. Why does one even want to express their thoughts publicly? There are hundreds of thousands of blogs out there, from hundreds of thousands of people doing hundreds of thousand of different things. Maybe that’s what makes public writing so interesting. I am grateful I was encouraged to learn to read and to write the English language. What a gift!

But what are people’s motives and does it even matter? Why would you give a shit about what I have to write on these pages? (Don’t worry, I actually don’t give a shit either, if you even do…which is my justification and motive behind public writing, once again). So there you have it, folks. Take what you want, leave what you want because life’s too short not to be doing what you want (without harming others). And this is what I want; to write, openly and honestly, and share my ideas and pictures, and expressions. Some of it true, and some of it from my imagination. Don’t read it just because I write it, and stop reading as soon as you don’t want to be reading anymore and you’d rather be doing something else. If you want more information, or need a little help, all you have to do is ask.

Long ago, I decided to dedicate my life and actions to improving humanity, as much as one person can dedicate and improve. I cannot promise answers, but I can listen and help formulate ideas and actions, based on our experiences and from those surrounding the circumstances. Humans are an extremely unique and bizarre species. We didn’t choose to be born, but we’ve got to try to figure out how to live. My philosphy? Keep things in perspective, treat people like you’d like to be treated, and consciously use as little as possible.

Yesterday, I put in my resignation from the job where I worked for over the past year and a half. I am finally releasing myself from incredibly bad energy and motives. It’s not quite over yet, but it will feel really really, really good when it is. At the same time, I’m releasing myself from extremely wonderful energy, although I feel that relationships will still be maintained. I am excited for this change of scenery. Obviously, better and more postive things await.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you very much for reading! One of the many things I learned from my parents was to always say please and thank you and to be polite, in general. So thank you for taking time to read this, when you could have been spending time doing something else. I hope that you keep reading.

Today was 110 degrees

2011-08-06T03:03:00.002-05:00

Outside Furniture

I think it’s pretty to see real furniture out on a lawn

Let’s set our bedroom up the way it is now, out on our lawn

We’ll melt ice cubes on our bodies if we’re laying out on the lawn

Because I like how light hits your face when we’re wasting time sitting out on the grass

And the blood doesn’t stain my reflection of you when I prick your lips

And the words on the pages are slowly coming alive

And we’re dancing among the furniture we set up outside

I think it’s lovely to see real furniture out in the yard

I forget that you’re dying, getting stoned at the table we moved to the yard

It makes me hate that I love you, sipping coffee in chairs we both brought out to the yard

But it’s easy now you’re stoking the fire, while I’m digging your grave

And you’ve told me not to worry, our things are made of oak, and you won’t be far away

Singled Out

2011-08-05T02:35:00.002-05:00

A single prick, a single poke
A single line, a single toke
A single chair sitting there
A single glance; one single chance
The singles mingle and dance
My single bed? One single said, to the singled out upon which he fed
This single night
That single fight
A single bite
And one single is dead

Planet Opie's

2010-11-22T01:07:00.013-06:00

You know that feeling when sometimes you REALLY need to get away? You've had just about enough of school, the checkout guy who keeps eerily checking you out, your nagging roommate, that ingrown nose hair and pretty much planet Earth in general and wish you could escape to an alternate universe all together. We've all been there, of course, but perhaps didn't exactly know how to handle the situation. Little did you know that there has been a simple solution and alternative universe right here in little ol Norman, Oklahoma, known as Opie's Night Club. Or, for those of us who repeatedly plan to return, simply: Opie's.

Most people in this college town have an Opie's story. They either know a friend of a friend or a sister or cousin whose picture is on the wall or was maybe "grooved on" one too many times at the Club. Some folks stumble upon the establishment because it's practically their back yard, and some get dragged there because it's their boss's birthday and they want to look sooo good. Others brave the invite of a close friend, which, in my opinion, is the ultimate friendship test. Sure, it helps if you like to dance, and I'll admit, it's not the kind of place you'd go to if your alternate universe involves fancy cocktails or 150" HD plasma LED flat screens. But if you're with a group of your "close" friends and they're all out there gettin' down and groovy and you're sittin' in your wicker chair thinking you'd rather be tweezing your ingrown nose hair, you may want to seriously re-think your common interests.

The first time I went to Opie's was in 2006, with one of my girlfriends whose older brother used to frequent the establishment. Even though she is a Norman native, she had yet to explore the mystery, so one daring night, we gave it a go. The instant we stepped across the threshold, we were transported back in time, to carpet the length of a Chia Pet's 'fro, flashing light bulbs the colors of Skittles, reflected by spinning mirrored balls and walls of mirrored walls. Not to mention that Opie, himself, dressed in a camel-colored, mole-haired, suite and mock turtle neck and decorated in gold jewelry, greeted us at the door. Once we took a minute to breathe and exhale, we noticed the actual dance floor. Dance floor is an understatement. It's pretty much as if Simon Says and Dance Dance Revolution got married by Mattel and Opie's was born, only so that the two games could have an outrageous wedding reception, all in one night. The floor is made of tiles. And the tiles light up...in different colors. And on our debut night, they also happened to have karaoke, which of course, I dutifully filled out my request that was probably a Judd's song.

That night seems like eons ago. Soon after, I left the country, and although I found temporary replacements for dancing and karaoke, nothing quite topped the charts, like Opie's did. My friend sent me updates, about the crowds and regulars, songs that were played, the bouncers and wait staff, and of course Opie. Then, one fine update, she divulges that the Club has a VIP card. Not only does it have a VIP card that gets you in, without the cover, at any time throughout the night, but she's got one!

For months, after my return to Norman, I openly coveted her VIP card. Apparently you have to really "get Opie's attention" in order to receive one. She got hers from a friend who had other lady friends visiting from out of town. I didn't know how I would ever get one, but I just knew I had to have one.

Then, last Friday, me and three girlfriends, including my original Opie's friend, zipped up our dancing shoes and headed for the flashing lights. Hands down, it was the most epic Opie's night I had ever experienced. To start, catching up with lady friends is always a good base line. Then, add dancing as a group, and with THE classic regular, whose dance partner mystery we finally uncovered, a little flirting with fellow mid-twenties Opie's frequenters, not one, but two birthday celebrations, The Safety Dance, some Dirty Dancers, Madonna, and hugs from Opie (not just the pound)!! The icing on the cake?! One of the birthday boys got a stack of VIP cards from Opie, which he gave to each each one of us ladies!! I really thought I was going to burst.

Now, my very own VIP card is now laminated with packing tape and tucked safely in my wallet. That is, until the next time I get the urge to dance to Pat Benatar on a rainbow colored floor, at 12:30am.

Picture an Adventure

2010-11-15T00:14:00.014-06:00

Falling in love always makes someone fall off the face of the Earth. I don't think any other emotion can cause such disruption in one's life, for such an extend period of time. Because when you're in love, and the love is reciprocated, the fire just keeps getting fed. For me, it's one of the main reasons that the summer and the fall months turned into winter in the amount of time that it takes for water to boil. You just keep finding meaningful ways to spend your time while you wait for the tiny bubbles to appear, and before you know it, you're enjoying a hot, tasty tea. Even better, you're sharing it with someone you enjoy just as much as your tea, watching the confetti-colored leaves spiral to the ground.

Okay, I know that was cheesy, but by now, most of us can relate. Which is why I know you'll understand why it's most appropriate to display the last 5 months (the length of time since the last post) in terms of photographs. Me and my beau, Todd, have traveled to some memorable places and met some generous folks along the way. Stay tuned for more...

Here are several pics from our travels together*:

1. Todd went to Mardi Gras with a good friend, last February. I didn't really know him very well at the time, but he made sure to send me pictures, so I didn't feel left out.

2. Todd enjoys the outdoors just as much as I do. We went to Taos, New Mexico in September, with his best friend, and saw a couple of tiny bear cubs late one night. We also spent time on the mesa and I learned what kinds of recycled building materials are utilized in this environment.

3. Todd is a talented and very creative musician. He plays guitar and sings in a couple of bands in the OKC/Norman area. It is a blast to watch him perform and hear what his newest ideas consist of. Here he is on the Grammy's stage, with one of his biggest and youngest fans, Steven.

4. Since Todd plays in a band, on stage, he's not a stranger to getting tattoos. He's a rock star, and rock stars need tattoos, so while we were at a friend's place in Chicago, he got some new ink.

5. Interesting women are always drawn to Todd. This lady, Zelda, asked me to take their picture when we were at the Norman Medieval Fair last May. I didn't want to be rude, so I obliged. She turned out to be really nice, and even gave us a turkey leg. Yummy!

6. Todd also works part time for Science Museum, Oklahoma. Bill Nye was presenting a workshop about electro-auto fastening micro cordless peddle boards (one of Todd's favorite subjects), and was so impressed by all of Todd's knowledge and initiative in answering questions, Mr. Nye just couldn't pass up the photo op.

7. Yup! We're hanging with the big wigs. Todd has encouraged me to become more involved with world affairs and politics. We were invited to vote in the gubernatorial elections in November, as citizens of towns in the state of Oklahoma. This picture was taken after Obama won the presidential election.

8. Okay, this one was photo-shopped. Maybe one day we'll make it to Mecca...

9. Here we are preparing for our trip to the Moon. Since we enjoy traveling the Earth so much together, we thought we'd shoot for it. That way, I'll be able to thank my lucky stars, in person.

Well, there you have it, folks. We have been busy learning new things about the world we live in, and about each other, and as a couple of young adults.

Peace and hugs!

Courtney

*Photos courtesy of the Flat Stanley Project (http://www.flatstanley.com/picture_gallery.html). Remember him? My sister sent Stanley to Guam when our cousins lived there some time ago.

2010-06-09T14:11:00.024-05:00

Summer is officially here in Norman . And I'm not just talking the impressive lightening and thunderstorms that produced tornadoes and baseball sized hail (seriously, baseball-sized) a couple of weeks ago, or the blazing sun and 90 plus degree heat. This post is a shout out to all the creative folks who dedicate their time and energy into putting together amazing events and shows around the community. It makes the summer more educational, entertaining and interesting. Last weekend, the Firehouse Art Center, Jacobson House and Fred Jones Museum of A rt sponsored "Luncheon on the Grass" at Lion's Park, which featured OU's Steel Drum Ensemble among other live music, free desserts, and my favorite: kids activities. Me and my main squeeze headed straight for the panels ready for painting and created some masterpieces that promote a couple of our proud endeavors: Touchstone Youth Project and Balcum Rancum Puppetry. I've got some Summer Field Trip groups lined up for Touchstone, at Rocktown Climbing Gym and will be supervising an OU School of Social Work (my Alma Mater) undergraduate student beginning in the fall. I'm also working on a fundraising push, so if anyone has any leads or is simply interested in donating to Touchstone, please contact me at cmgilman@touchstoneyouth.org.

The deadCenter Film Festival in Oklahoma City opened today, June 8th and will be screening films until Sunday, June 12th. If you live in the area, this could be a fun event to check out to see some of Oklahoma's own big screen talent, as well as some from surrounding states. But if you only have one evening to spare and live in Norm an, come out for the 2nd Friday Circuit of Art walk on Main and Gray's Streets. And if you are for sure going, don't miss this .

My brave mother has been breast cancer-free for over one year now. She is participating in the North Texas Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure this Saturday. You can make a direct donation to Team PepsiCo here . Way to go, Momma. I love you.

I really love biking around town and most of the time the weather doesn't stop me. But every now and again, it's nice to be transported in air conditioning. Lucky for us in town, we can still conserve emissions and lay off the gas pedal by participating the CART bus service. They are having a promotion on June 17th and giving away free stuff and ending the night with music. Don't miss this gravy train.

Also, don't forget the man who introduced you to Hair, The Musical, made up his own words to popular songs for bedtime, took you to your favorite Oklahoma State Park every December and taught you how to get your real money's wo rth of theater movies. His day is Sunday, June 20th.

Speaking of music, Jazz in June is just around the corner. This is another great family friendly event sponsored by the Norman Arts Counsel, among other local endeavors. Sign up to volunteer for 4 hour slot and get a free t-shirt and help support a much anticipated annual celebration.

In other news, I'll be famous soon. You can say you knew me when. And you can pre-order your very own copy of the book from me and I'll autograph and personalize it just for you. My book signing is scheduled at Hastings in Norman, and you'll probably want to start camping out at least two days prior if it's anything like th e Palin signing last November. Hurry, there are only 5 copies left.

If you need another fix of my amazingly creative and witty writing style and can't afford a copy of my book, here is the latest Nothin' But Non-Profit article in Voices of Oklahoma, the online magazine in which I contribute from time to time.

Me and one of my girl friends have been gardening a bit this summer. We've got onions and a couple of tomato plants, a cucumber plant, a pepper plant, beets and marigolds from seed and in the herb department, dill, chives, cilantro, a nd Thai basil. Although it's not super extensive, it's nice to see growth and progression from living things. And these living things get life from not only the natural elements, but gray water from doing the dishes.

I recently took a Haitian and Cuban inspired dance class at Sonder Music, Dance & Art , a studio located downtown that is owned and operated by a woman my age, which is very inspiring in and of itself. Classes are on going and there are many options to chose from, whether you are looking for something physically active or instrumentally centered. I recommend checking this place out and getting moving. I also decided to splurge on a summer class at the Firehouse Art Center , and boy howdy, am I excited about it. I've always thought glass work was beautiful, so I'm trying my hand at what's known as glass slumping. You've seen those pieces of pendants, earrings and broaches that are layered with colors of glass and those bowls and vases with swirls of colors and beads with glass dots. Those are glass slumped pieces and that's what I'm learning to do. I've only had one class so far and have no idea how my pieces are going to turn out, or if I'm even good at it, but it's super fun I've got lots of plans for my work and am already scheming ways for the pieces to end up in your homes and on your body.

But the best part of the summer is that I'm going to see my favorite Indie band of all time, for the very first time, with my new favorite person with whom I've been spending my free time. We're road tripping to Des Moines for this 4th of July music festival and both Yo La Tengo and a band with whom he plays, Evangelicals, just happen to be playing. We're heading to Urbana and possibly Madison, and certainly Chicago, after that, to meet and visit each other's friends. Peace Corps reunion and birthday celebrating bee kerring fo sho!

I also got to see my Mom and Dad and sister and her boyfriend in Dallas, over Memorial Day and that was fabulous. We went to the Dallas Worl d Aquarium and grilled out and I saw two fabulous bands that were both new to me.

Finally, I'd like to end this post with a little shock value. Wow is all I can say . And to think, my secondary project was simply singing toothbrush songs in Mandinka.

I like Spring, but cutting the grass, not so much.

2010-04-14T14:46:00.014-05:00

Spring is finally here, bringing a lot of amazing things with it. The weather is finally becoming nice enough to open the windows to let the fresh air breeze through and the sun is shining for consecutive days again. I thought the winter was especially brutal this year, but that might have just been because I hadn't experienced one in a while. Day after day of gray, biting wind, layer upon layer of clothing (outside AND at the "office"), snow storms, ice storms, 5 degree weather and a month of no running water was a lot to handle.

But now it's nice and all I want to do is spend time outside. I was even getting pretty excited about mowing my lawn, which was a brand new responsibility to me, considering my parents always hired that task out when I was growing up. I bought what I'm now referring to as the Comanche Cottage in October and was able to get away with things beginning to go dormant at that time, so put off purchasing a lawn mower. I had way too many other expenses, anyway and my grandpa even offered a mower that had been used on his property when the weather was warm again. I borrowed a mower from a friend and he graciously helped me with the first season's cutting. Even though he did most of the yard, I thought to myself that this was going to be a serious chore! Every two weeks at the very least!? He tried to make me feel better by saying it was sort of a difficult mower. So when my grandparents came to visit last weekend and it was decided that I would be receiving a brand new, self-propelling, gasoline mower with mulching/side disposing/bag options, my excitement was restored. Grandpa even gave me a weed-eater and a tutorial. By the end of the afternoon, I was ready to open up my own lawn business.

Today was a particularly beautiful day, so I decided to give it a whirl, in preparation for a potluck I'm hosting on Sunday. The front yard went according to plan, although it still wasn't as fun as I had psyched it up for myself to be. The backyard is a somewhat different story. It has all these nooks and crannies (at least that's how it appears after trying to lug a 15 lb gas machine through it all). I tried to keep telling myself that it was just like vacuuming. I like vacuuming. And I like gardening. So it would only make sense that I'd like cutting my grass. But when I tried to turn the mower around in one of the crannies and it hit a concrete barrier and the motor stopped and decided not to begin again after I cussed and willed it too, I decided that I really didn't like it. And, with the weed-eater's cumbersome starting sequence and easily destroyed, but difficultly feeding thread mechanism, I began getting uncharacteristically upset. Such a silly thing to get upset about, in the grand scheme of things, I know! It made me feel powerless and helpless in my independent and organized world. So the machines were shoved back in the shed and I stormed into the house and pulled out my go-to empowerment tool but Roscoe's arch enemy- the vacuum. I guess everyone has their sore spots...

A few fun happenings:

Guestroom Records hosts the 3rd Annual Record Store Day. Support your local source for great music and entertainment by listening to live music and joining in on the fun at either the Norman or Oklahoma City stores.

Pick up a free tree at Reaves Park in Norman on Sunday, April 18th from noon-6pm, in celebration and preparation for Arbor Day, which takes place on April 30th this year.

Next weekend marks one of the most awesome reasons to live in Norman:
The Norman Music Festival. This year, for the first time, the completely free event spans two days and will host nearly 100 bands from around the country. I'm already coming up with my Excel spread sheet of not to be missed bands, including but not limited to Ghost of Monkshood, Brother Gruesome, Kite Flying Robot, Evangelicals, The Workweek, Native Lights, Gentle Ghost, Broncho, Depth and Current and even some on the Latin stage. Also, this year, Dustbowl Arts Market, the bountiful brainchild of a collaboration of friends, will be featured at the Festival. I signed up to volunteer at the Little Rocker's Kid Stage, which will include a puppet show from Balcum Rancum Puppetry and experiments from Science Museum Oklahoma. Hopefully I'll be contributing to some amazing punk-rock hairstyles and temporary tattoos.

Rocktown Climbing Gym will host their annual sport climbing competition on
April 24th. Pre-register to participate or volunteer for Superrock.

Oklahoma's Farmers Markets are in full swing. Pick up some delicious and mellifluous honey, fresh produce and herbs or grow your own from seeds or seedlings.

It's a great time to be in Oklahoma right now. Grab a friend and a Frisbee and get outside. You'll be swept away by the fabulous time you'll have, if not by the wind.

It Takes Two for Rockin'...

2010-03-31T01:10:00.016-05:00

Lucky for your ears, that's just the arrangement of the dynamite duo, Cody Lee Fletcher and Lydia Gilman, who make up The Gunslingers.

My sister moved to Memphis, Tennessee in 2008, shortly after graduating from Full Sail Academy with enough knowledge about audio engineering to pursue her ambitions and land a couple of day gigs to supplement the evening ones. Music is one of her true loves and it oozes from every pore in her body and drips from her drumsticks. Never fail, every time we talk on the phone, she's at one of her jobs. She works hard for the money but lives for the music. And it truly shows. And I couldn't be more proud.

I've never asked her from where this passion derived, but if it was anything like mine, I'd say it couldn't have helped but come from our parent's ever-rotating vinyl records. I still remember the first time I heard Stairway to Heaven. It was the song that summed up the night at a sixth grade social. The next day, I asked my mom if she'd ever heard this song, which was precisely when she pulled out the album, picked up the arm, and placed the needle in the groove. I was 12 years old and I must have put it on play at least 12 times that very day.

As CDs became more popular, I recall my father acquiring more of his favorite artists. Mr. Young quickly became old and tired to my sister and my ears, until we realized the reality of his lyrics and the soul of his sound. How Tori Amos ended up in their bathroom stereo, I'm still unsure, but I'm sure it was Winter when I became hooked. In high school, the Dallas rock station, KDGE had this obscure show that aired on Sunday nights. I didn't know what I was listening to, I just knew Liz Phair was a Polyester Bride and Kate Bush put more than a literary spin to Wuthering Heights. Of course, Debbie Gibson, Erasure and The Steve Miller Band, among others, had their fair share of play in my tape deck. Ever heard of Don Williams? I'll sing you his greatest hits album next time we're driving to Beavers Bend State Park... College opened more doors than David Bowie in Labyrinth and Jim Morrison, combined and I can still picture the exact song and moment when I decided Yo La Tengo must be writing songs and playing their music just for me. Last spring I went to visit Lydia in Memphis and I re-borrowed a handful of my parent's albums that she had snagged. Last month, my parents came to visit me in Norman, and my father once again regained ownership of several of his treasures. He just so happened to leave Led Zepplin IV in the stack. A couple of days ago, I discovered I have the capability to listen to Joni Mitchell's Blue four different ways, all at the same time: vinyl, tape, laptop and mp3.

The Gunslingers begins their southern states and New England tour in a couple of days. Most likely they'll be coming to your town, so get out there, support an up and coming band while having your socks rockabillied off.

Touchstone is going fabulously. Recently, we collaborated on a and submitted a grant application for a ropes course to be added on to the Rocktown facility. Wish us luck!! The weather is FINALLY becoming grain-silo friendly, and I know the kids are enjoying the whole climbing experience much more. A slack-line is even set up, for a chance to test balance and soak up some sun while queuing up for the popular routes.

Whether on the stage or on a cliff, it looks like rock is just the way these Gilman girls roll.

Nothin' But Non-Profit

2010-03-29T00:32:00.001-05:00

"Voices of Oklahoma is a non-profit, non-commercial, non-sectarian media outlet for central Oklahoma." A couple of weeks ago, I contacted them about contributing a section that highlights local not-for-profit organizations. When they said awesome, I said sweet, can I start with my own? The interview was posted last Thursday.

If you have a suggestion or would like your non-profit agency or organization featured in this segment, send an email to cmgilman@gmail.com.

It's gonna be a sun-shiney day!

The Medieval Fair(y)

365 Days of Re-adjustment

2010-03-25T04:15:00.017-05:00

After way too many months of feeling like a parallelogram peg trying to fit into a trapezoid whole, I'm finally really beginning to find my groove. Only after moving back in with the parents in my mid-twenties, taking a month long solo train excursion around the States, contemplating where to re-locate with Roscoe until the cows chose our home, accepting a job offer which led to an incredibly unique and rewarding opportunity to utilize my degree, purchasing intimidating adult-like possessions, a month without running water in a first-world country, and experiencing four full seasons (winter, okay, you win with your bitter, ice cold 'tude), am I truly feeling like I belong.

A couple of weeks will bring the end of the month of March and the anniversary of my return from The Gambia. Incredible. Unbelievable, actually. It is safe to say that I barely recognize any faces in pictures posted by people I barely knew upon departing, but friended on Facebook because that was the status quo. Time just goes by so much faster with 24-hour electricity and pancake houses. Or maybe it's just that America's pace is like Africa on steroids. The Chaco tan-lines on my feet have completely faded, although those fine ones on my face from 24 months of sun have not. Last month I found my first gray hair. Last week I found my second one.

I kept telling myself Norman was the right place where to re-locate. After all, it WAS voted 6th best place to live in 2008 by Money Magazine. But all around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces... And to admit that "it's not easy," would be the understatement of the century. However, since moving to back Oklahoma, I've begun to gain this sincere sense of pride that I have yet to experience anywhere else I have ever resided. I want friends to visit and for people to discover this secret jewel of a state. Our red-dirt, Native America has much to offer, and this eclectic little university town is just the tip of the termite mound.

In fact, I'd like to spend the rest of the post promoting a handful of mind, body and soul-enriching activities, all of which take place in the time span of about a month:

March 26-28th: 34th Medieval Fair at Reeves Park

April 9th: Live Broadcast of Science Friday on KGOU!!

April 22nd: Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea and Stones into Schools visits. Three Cups of Tea was one of those Peace Corps "must reads."

April 24th and 25th: 3rd Annual Norman Music Festival, a monumental event that is putting Norman on the music map and was nearly a deciding factor to come after one year in the Peace Corps.

April 25th: Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon

Finally, on Monday, I was invited to sit on a panel for the Women's and Gender Studies Department at OU, as the result of attending a lecture on the organization, International Rescue Committee. After the lecture, the audience mingled and I found myself telling one of the many Peace Corps stories, as well as speaking passionately about Touchstone, the non-profit for which I now work. The next day, I received an out-of-the-blue email from the director of the WGS department, who happened to be captivated and "impressed" by the stories, inviting me to participate in a career workshop for WGS majors and minors and potential majors and minors. The panel will take place on Tuesday, March 30th from 5-6:30 in the Memorial Student Union, so come listen!

One year later, it truly is good to be back, Boy-Boy.

Mother Nature Has a Bizarre Sense of Humor

2010-03-20T02:00:00.013-05:00

But, it's okay because I do too! Yes, I understand she will always have the last laugh, but I like to think of it as laughing with us, not at us. However, I am an optimist.

I just love the National Weather Service's clip art from the seven day forecast. Always keeping the folks that post for Oklahoma on their toes:

Fri-32 Sat-34 Sun-28 Mon-60(BTW, this is "blowing snow")

I made plans to till up a couple of garden beds with a friend on Sunday. That was last week though. Apparently, I blocked it out in my head that one still can't plan 12 hours ahead, much less a week, when it comes to outdoor activities in this state. I did, however, walk to Walgreens tonight, in between rain showers, while the temps dropped, and picked up 6 packets of veggie seeds. They had a bunch of random packets, ranging from herbs to veggies and fruits to flowers, all for 3 for $.99. This is the least expensive I've found all around town. I am convinced that seeds don't need to be fancy. They'll grow if you plant them, if they want. In fact, if you do your research, you'll figure out exactly how to get extracted seeds from the fruit to germinate, for free. You're probably saying, duh, but some fruits just don't work that way, like hybridized seeds that come from the apple you just ate. Apparently, you have to stratify them (keep them cool for a period of time) after drying to get those suckers started.

Anyway, I guess it's her way of telling us to have a nice weekend. So I'm going to try to do that by road tripping farther north to Wichita, KS, to see some friends play at a show. Seriously, though, I hope this is the trump hand. I'm so ready to be warm and outside!!

My mom sent an email today informing me about World Water Day, which is this Monday, March 22nd. Most of the scheduled activities take place in Washington D.C., but obviously you can celebrate in your own way, depending on what water means to you. I did a little more research and stumbled upon this documentary called Tapped, that takes a look at the bottled water industry and access to and waste of water in general. A little corny (not to mention misuse of resources), a "mobile translucent recycling container will kick off the "Get off the H2O Bottle" tour in Los Angeles with an empty cabin that will be filled with the public’s empty water bottles by the time the team ends up in New York City on Earth Day (April 22nd, 2010)." This bottle thing will be coming through Norman, though, on April 6th. I couldn't find out where exactly or what this means, besides the possibility of free stuff from the sponsors, Klean Kanteen, Food and Water Watch, Multi-Pure water filters, and Aveda. A giant bottle on wheels; I wonder who was in charge of their PR...

On another note, I thought of a few more ways I've decided to reduce consumption and save energy:

*Unplugging small appliances. I think the only thing that is consistently in the wall is my bedside lamp. I also keep the refrigerator and washer and dryer connected, although now, writing this, I should probably unplug everything but the fridge.

*Setting up a clothesline outside. It was the only way my clothes dried in Gambia. It only makes sense to make use of this sun after so much winter. It's like cashing in double.

*Riding my bike around town. I almost didn't mention this because it is second nature. If setting up a clothesline is like cashing in double, riding your bike around town is like hitting jackpot. You save on fuel and reduce emissions, while giving your heart and muscles some lovin'.

Okie dokie, Okies, have a nice weekend!

Spring Clean Your Life

2010-03-14T15:53:00.017-05:00

Reduce Your Junk Mail: Not many people will argue against recycling from home (although there will always be some). But you can go a step further, by reducing the amount of items you might otherwise recycle. One way to do that is to limit the amount of "junk mail" that arrives in your box day after day. You can also be conscious of purchasing items with a limited amount of packaging.

Reduce Your Mobile Minutes: Sign up for the national Do Not Call registry and limit the amount of calls from telemarketers, which can eat up your minutes. On my phone, I can also check my text and minute usage to make sure I'm staying within my plan, reducing the potential for unforeseen extra monthly charges on the bill.

Reduce Your Water Consumption: I've started washing my dishes in a tub of soapy water and rinsing them over another bowl, to catch that water, too. After they fill up, I use it to water my trees or flower beds. Practice the yellow/mellow toilet flushing method. According to creativecitizen.com, you can save up to 4380 gallons a year by just holding off from 2 flushes in one day. Imagine 6 milk gallons going down the toilet from just 2 flushes. This became all too familiar when my pipes froze and busted and I was without running water for one month. But if you MUST flush, fill your tank with a couple of bricks, to help displace the water. You can also install low pressure shower heads, or ones that you can switch off without turning the entire faucet.

Swap Your Clothes: If you are on Facebook and reside in the Norman, Oklahoma City area, log on and start cleaning out your closets for the city-wide clothing swap in celebration of Earth Day. This event takes place on April 10th, 2010.

In Our Own Backyards

2010-03-11T23:33:00.008-06:00

Remember seeing those yellow notebook paper stickers around town with this slogan? Did you think it was funny that the sticker could be considered "stuff" it was proposing to use less of?

Well, I was doing some research for this next post and stumbled upon this campaign from our very own Native America state of OK. Turns out Oklahoma really is OK! Or we were on our way to becoming just that in 2003 and decided everything possible had been done by 2004, because that's when the last newsletter was published:
http://www.deq.state.ok.us/pubs/lpd/ULSnews1.pdf

A proclamation was even signed, declaring April 19-26, 2008 as "Use Less Stuff Week" . I emailed the name of the woman in the newsletter and it was returned to me, permanently failed.

And here's a nifty little Footprint survey:
http://www.deq.state.ok.us/mainlinks/uls/PersonalEcoFootprintCalculatoradult.pdf ersonalEcoFootprintCalculatoradult.pdf

PSAs
for
life!

Spreading Altruistically Speaking

2010-03-09T14:44:00.001-06:00

What is important to you in your world? Is this what drives you? How much has it changed for you in the past ten years? Or rather, how much has it changed you?

I’m dedicating my life to helping people, this is becoming apparent. It is a little strange to think I chose this direction. Somehow, I feel that more realistically, this direction has chosen me. Yet when I really sit down and think about it, I can’t imagine it any other way. How much of our individual beings are a result of circumstance vs. innate biology? Then there’s the whole nurturing component, which only exponentially increases the variables such as religion, morals and values, and even culture over the span of many, many years, which that! (time), in and of itself, plays such a starring role in development.

Recently, I’ve been spending my time surrounded by many amazingly creative and talented individuals. I found myself in this awkward friend transition a while ago, which is presently allowing me to really reflect on what it means to not only be a solid friend, but a solid person. I’ve been working toward re-directing energy into positive and fulfilling situations, like my incredible job, from which I have already met countless caring and like-minded persons. It turns out though, that the clock kept ticking, the Earth, spinning, and even though the scene of my formative years and old stomping ground was familiar, down to the pot-holed bike path on Avenue X, personalities and situations (mine included), were not. Single friends now had significant others, professional-student friends now had professional careers and new lives were beginning to enter this world, as well. Relating these two worlds became more difficult than I expected. But thank goodness for the fantastic relationships I’d gained through the world that now seemed like an ethereal dream. And then some friendships picked up exactly where they had left off. It just felt nice to be sitting face to face at a table at the most bizarrely fabulous jewel of a dance club, discovered the month of my departure. Of course, we weren’t sitting at the table for long…

I’ve been placed in the role of a mentor in my career. Even before this though, it seemed natural to just share random tid-bits of knowledge or experiences. Almost like, by holding back on transferring that knowledge, a disservice was taking place. Then, with the reinforcement of the role model mentorship to hundreds of youth every month, adding family, friends and acquaintances to the mix became second nature. Who knows, maybe I’m just clouding people’s minds with useless information, but something more in me hopes that’s really not the case. In Gambia, I found this book called The Tipping Point, by Malcolm Gladwell, in which he describes the components that make up epidemics and social phenomenons. According to Gladwell, it is a combination of this “rule of three”, the first one having specifically to do with people, coined as “the law of few”. He explains that in economics, this is known as the 80/20 principal, “which is the idea that in any situation roughly 80 percent of the 'work' will be done by 20 percent of the participants”. All of a sudden, I was reading further into what seemed like a label on my own personality. This “law of few” involves three different types of people: connectors, mavens and salesmen. As someone who “seeks to pass information along”, did this mean I was a maven? He goes on to state that “Mavens are really information brokers, sharing and trading what they know”, and due to a combination of social skills, knowledge and ultimately, the ability to communicate, have an impact on how things are transferred among society. Perhaps this is one reason I feel compelled to publically post these thoughts…? In addition, connectors are "a handful of people with a truly extraordinary knack [... for] making friends and acquaintances because of their ability to span many different worlds [... as] a function of something intrinsic to their personality, some combination of curiosity, self-confidence, sociability, and energy ". And finally, salesmen are people with ability to persuade and negotiate because of their powerful and charismatic personalities. After reading this book, each new person I meet is viewed in a new light and I’ve even begun to go back and place these “labels” on certain people in my own social network.

Social networks are ever evolving and expanding, exponentially so in this 21st century! I always tend to wonder how or for what reason these people are specifically entering my life and mine theirs. The other day, I was told I was inspiring. What’s funny though, was that I was thinking the very same of them. Recently, too, the idea of the importance of exchanging compliments has resurfaced. For some reason, the process of receiving is almost more complicated than handing them out. Today, though, I am able to do both at the exact same time: Mom and Dad, I’ve been told more than once by near strangers in the past couple of months that you both reared a good chilen. Just wanted you to know that.

Gladwell, Malcolm. (2000). The tipping point: How little things can make a big difference. New York, NY: Little, Brown and Company.

Born to Running Water

2010-02-08T23:06:00.001-06:00

For the majority of the people I know, this title is the rule; which holds such irony, because for the majority of the people I don’t know, it is exactly the exception.

Exactly four weeks ago, Oklahoma once again dealt its residence the hand for which it is known: extreme weather. With anticipated highs not escaping the teens, we were instructed to combat this climate criminal by opening cabinets, dripping faucets and circulating heaters. As a responsible new homeowner and overachieving seasoned student, I followed the assignment to the T. Well, apparently T’s won’t earn you A’s because when I woke up the next morning, my faucets were froze. So I did what the majority of the people I don’t know would do; turn off the City’s water and fetch my own. I knew eventually the temperatures would graduate to above freezing and those pipes in the crawl space would thaw. The end of the weekend brought rising temperatures and heightened anxiety as I anticipated my worst fear. After unscrewing the crawl space entrance and turning on the City’s water, it was more than apparent that this dangerously low temperature thief had done its damage, and although in my eyes, it was the weather that deserved punishment, in the end it was the poor pipes that got busted. At this point, I did what the majority of the people I do know would do; started a claim with my insurance company and scheduled a professional plumber for the next “working” day. But the use of resources in a developing country kept cycling through my mind, so when a friend offered himself and his roommate to identify the exact source of the problem plumbing, to be looked at a couple of days later, I thought, what’s a few more days with the water off?

The good news was, they figured out what was actually wrong. The bad news was, it probably couldn’t be more complicated. Home Sweet Homeownership? Three months in and I already needed to replace the main underground pipe that ran from under the crawl space to the water meter at the street. Which was precisely when my little cottage took on a Goldilocks’-like fable of its own. The first plumber came all the way out, quickly surveyed the exterior perimeter of the house, peeked an eye in the crawl space and quoted me $200 or so. That just seemed a little too small and a little too good to be true. Which is when I thought to call a reliable and friendly source, to whom I am very grateful. He gave me a much better picture of what actually needed to be replaced, and how, and approximately how much, and recommended another plumber. This wasn’t going to be a quick, cheap fix, because the line was completely rusted and corroded, and all underground. A new pipe was going to have to be placed from the water meter, going underground, under the house, and up through the crawl space to the kitchen sink, from where the pipes shoot off to the rest of the house. A 20 inch trench had to be dug from the meter to the house (about 40 feet), then a tiny tunnel under the house, where it could meet under the crawl space. With this information, at least I knew what I was getting into.

After explaining all I knew to the second plumber, it finally convinced him to take a look for himself. The next day, he quoted me a price 10x as the first guy! I asked him to provide a line item statement while I called a third plumber. Turns out plumbers charge anywhere from $75-150 per hour, per worker. They have to rent $300 equipment to dig in your yard and then spend 2 or more hours digging the trench, and then however many hours it takes to replace the meter and the pipes and connect them all under the crawl space, plus the cost of the parts. It could be a 10 hour job, plumber #2 told me.

By the time I called plumber #3, I had been without running water for almost two weeks. I had a pretty good system down, which made me think very long and hard about what it meant to be connected to the City’s line in a developed country. In The United States America, you are NOT going to go without potable water, by any means. But I felt more vulnerable and more reliant on others than I ever did the entire two-plus years spent in Gambia. I relished those bucket baths under the stars, where washing my hair wasn’t a chore, but a renewing sense of self. Now, even though I resorted back to my gas-heated water bathing techniques, washed my dishes over a basin, and used that “gray water” to fill the toilet tank, I couldn’t bring myself to pass up the offer of friends to take a hot, running water shower every couple of days, which brought back the exact feeling of a renewed sense of self.

There was something about the third plumber’s sense of urgency and compassion about getting that water up and running again, that felt “just right”. He didn’t look at me with crazy eyes when I told him I’d done this before, voluntarily. When he was confused about exactly what was going on under the house, he pulled out his little disposable white suit and crawled right into the dirt. When I told him my plan to get a bunch of friends together and dig the trench, he didn’t hop right back into his truck and drive away. Instead, he gave me the exact dimensions of the trench, told me I had some pretty good friends, and to call him when we decided to give up. Ha! That’s a challenge if I ever heard one!

So, on the second Sunday of washing one hand at a time, three friends, to whom I will forever be indebted and ever grateful, put in hour after hour of muscle power and elbow grease, while I stood there and watched, just like I learned in Gambia. Yeah right! (I did offer food to everyone, though). I’m ready to sign up for some activity that involves demolishing something, because when I picked up that ax thing and made contact with the earth, something more than dirt stirred up. And after the nearly two foot ditch was dug, we spent another hour or so under the house, on elbows, digging a tiny tunnel under the concrete blocks, at which one point I asked my friend under the house with me, “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you break out of this joint?” His answer? “Kiss my wife!” (She was on the outside, digging, in). Just as frustration was starting to set in, we finally saw the light of day and the challenge of victory was ours!!
I was so proud of our efforts, I immediately called plumber #3 and told him I was more than ready to get this water! However, I was once again let down when he said that the earliest they’d be able to get to it was the FOLLOWING Tuesday! This was just getting ridiculous. But not as ridiculous as the impending ice storm-turned snow blizzard that would freeze everything in the metro area for 5 days, with its 5 inches of accumulation. It certainly was beautiful, though, but as I watched those bowing branches dip lower over the electric lines as the ice kept coating, I was once again imagining the worst: one more utility compromised. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

One month later, what finally did happen was that the snow melted enough for two workers to come out and connect new pipes, all in about 3 hours, resulting in bill nearly ¼ of the quote of plumber #2. But because the water had been off for so long, debris prevented the faucets from working properly, until an on-call plumber came out and fixed that too. After which, I crawled up into the attic this time, turned the water heater dial a little more to the right, and took a nice, long, hot bath. Whatever! I took a shower! And washed my hair! On a Friday night, woo hoo!

While we’re on the topic of things “running”, I have something to share. I just finished this book called Born to Run, about the Tarahumara tribe in Mexico and their ultra-running capabilities. It was very interesting and inspiring to this runner who aspires to complete at least one marathon at some point. At the same time, I found out that a story I wrote about being an American, female runner, in The Gambia, is going to be published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Runners. This is their first addition and my story will be one of the 2% included in America’s favorite bathroom reading book. Look for it in July!

For Every Season...Our Roots Keep Growin'

2010-01-31T19:40:00.006-06:00

It is only after I sit down to write this, that I realize the significance of today’s date. On January 30th, three years ago, I was about to embark on one of the most incredibly challenging and humbling, yet rewarding and philanthropic journeys of this young adult’s life. I had joined the US Peace Corps, and my moment to depart from everything familiar (family, foods and even fun), had arrived. Exactly three years ago, today, I was taking the proverbial flight into the unknown, first stop: Washington DC, to begin the first round of 27 months of integration preparation, known as Staging.

Now, three years later, I’ve been a returned Peace Corps volunteer for nine full months. I suppose it seems like it’s been that long. I mean, I’ve witnessed more changing seasons living back in Oklahoma, in six months than I experienced in the two years I lived in The Gambia, a small West African coastal country. If I peer out the window at this exact moment, bowing tree limbs, magnified by the three inches of coated ice and a blanket of blinding white, which envelops this typically rusted red dirt state, are all staring back at me.

But this segment is not meant to recount lack of seasons or saying goodbyes. There is a whole other entertaining online journal, dedicated to two years worth of that stuff. However, I wouldn’t be giving credit where it were deserved if I didn’t admit that putting those experiences to paper (and receiving positive acclamations) unveiled this desire to continue doing so. And when one day recently, out of the forgotten blue, I learn Chicken Soup for the Soul: Runners, is highly considering using one of my stories, I am somehow reassured that perhaps my mother isn’t the only one who might enjoy perusing the thoughts of an ordinary girl on a public forum. Of course, all of that is secondary to the fact that I really enjoy writing, which I now recognize is a therapeutic outlet, that has impacted my life and perhaps these random words may yours, as well.

So I suppose a little catch up is in store. First of all, I had a baby. Completely joking. It’s just that with the amount of time that has passed, I totally could have! I did, however, accrue a mortgage, an incredibly rewarding job and enough bills to compensate for it, purchased my very first car, moved back in with my dog, made some new solid friends, reunited with some old ones and maintained contact with the valuable ones.

There will definitely be more random stories and life pursuits to come, but for now, I’ll just say: It’s good to be back, Boy-Boy.