Flying again. For the too-manyeth time this month. As we leave, I ask for my troubles and worries to be left behind, to be dissolved into the earth.
I don’t wish to become one of those tired travellers who close the shutters down over the plane windows instead of gasping over the clouds and light.
Markets. Me and my sister wander around the Valley. I clutch her hand when sirens sound. I am still a small town girl at heart when it comes down to it.
Fresh fruit markets. A man with expressive hands and disillusioned eyes sells crystals. I chose one, light blue with clouds. My little sister chooses vivid green. They feel good on our heart chakras.
Standing in someone’s kitchen last night, I argue with a boy with blue-grey eyes I just met about cynicism. He tells me it is better to be realistic. I step into the middle of the kitchen floor, spread my wings out wide, and tell him “Cynicism is over-rated. I’d rather stand in this world with a big brave heart, open for the world to see.”
Walking to our carpark yesterday to find only an empty space. We look at each other.
I take this photo, captioning it in my head as
“Moment we realise car is stolen.”
Then we realise we are on wrong floor. Walk down to next level to find car. Take this photo, captioning it in my head as
“Moment we realise car is not stolen.”
Falling asleep last night, I prod my little sister.
“Talk to me.”
“We’ve been talking for 12 hours. I’m tired. Why do you want to talk?”
“I always talk to Chris before going to sleep!”
“I’m going to sleep.”
“What’s your favourite colour?”
There is a pause. She resists, then relents.
“Blue or yellow.”
“Yellow? Really? I hate yellow!”
“Yeah, I know. You like gold.”
Not long after, she falls asleep. I turn over, homesick for the man I won’t see for another two weeks. Somehow, it is nice to feel homesick for him.
Sometime last night
after we’d driven up the side of a hill
and eaten ice creams sitting on the sidewalk
overlooking the lights of BrisVegas
and started playing SuperModelPhotoShoots,
my little sister turned to me and said
“Seriously. Don’t put these photos on your website. I can put them on MySpace though.”
This morning I arose, leaving lil sis to slumber. Drank Dandelion, Mint and Ginger tea. Wrote morning pages, looked out the window, felt the beauty of tropical air on my cheeks. Turned on her laptop and proceeded to upload all the photos from last night to my website.
You snooze, you lose, little sister.
Moments of dreaming, longing, hoping, growing. I feel stuck and broken and alive all at once. Here I am reminded of my crappiest parts. I usually feel like a soaring eagle, discovering new heights, but here, in my past, I feel like I am bringing up the rear, scooping up and rounding up all the parts that still feel lost, undeveloped, unwhole. I bring them home into myself.
I bring them home.