"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

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

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.

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. :)

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

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

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

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