Posts tagged “nature

Why I’ll never stop hopping fences.

I’m really fucking stoked on all the likes and new followers I got this week. Here’s a reblog of a post I think you fort sleepers will appreciate. Forever young!

Over the weekend, I was confronted with a choice: go inside and join a group, or hop a fence and be with nature.

I’d been invited to a gathering by a friend, and was *supposed* to be acting sociable. But I wasn’t in the mood, so I hid in the bathroom. A woman came in. Her name was Uma and she had pixie hair. She said she was going outside, did I want to join? We pushed open a heavy door. The afternoon air was fresh and warm and a grove of trees rustled just beyond a chain-link fence. We sat and talked in the sun, then reached through the fence to pick blackberries. 

More than once, someone asked us to come back inside. Our rebellion seemed to bug them. But I was ready to take it one step further. To me, a fence doesn’t represent a barrier, it begs…

View original post 263 more words


Garden of social media delights.

Feeling caught between my electronic daily life and the dandelion desires of my soul. I 100% want to build an online audience for my words, my movies, my me. I 100% want to stare at trees and drink the ocean, feel the moon. That’s a 200% contradiction. I love communicating, sharing, instatweetbooking my latest photo/feeling/idea. But I belong in wildflowers. 

Creating “The Girl Behind the Glass” videos I shoot while inside the glass box at the Standard has been a revelation. Just me and the camera. I get to direct, edit and market myself, no middleman, just me straight to the viewer. It’s a practice in trusting my creative instincts, no second guessing myself. 

But the challenge of getting the videos seen is like building a mountain one pebble at a time. But this is the norm of the 21st century performer. We’re our own muses, managers, and marketing machines. I am NOT complaining, don’t get me wrong. It’s an incredible opportunity to be emerging in the entertainment industry at this point in time, getting discovered could be as close as the nearest smartphone. But it’s overwhelming as fuck. 

I don’t know why social media marketing myself and being in touch with my earthy soul feel mutually exclusive, but they do. Running off into the woods pulls my focus, and once I’m there I never want to come back. So I’ve decided to become the master of my 10’x10′ Koreatown front lawn. If that’s the nature I have in my care, than I shall be a good steward and revel in it everyday. I drink my coffee in the sun when I can, touch the velvet leaves on the bougainvillea and tell Mother Earth she’s looking damn sexy. I close my eyes and hope she’ll infuse me with life, taking in the helicopters overhead and the homeless lady rummaging through my trash, thanking them for contributing to the symphony of my life. We’re in this together after all. Balance is something worth “liking.”

My garden, my bougainvillea, my dream: 

Image


Something amazing that happened to me this summer:

It was late July, and I was on a hike with three friends near Cloverdale, California. The hike was actually the immense backyard of one of the friends, he has a cabin on an incredible piece or property in the mountains, there are blackberry bushes and a giant rope swing and best of all–a grove of redwoods. The air was heavy with heat, the hillsides were that summertime burnt gold. To get in character, I picked up a walking stick and chewed a stalk of grass.

When we arrived at the grove of redwoods, we each fell silent. The trees do that to you. I sat down by a stump, right in the dirt, even rubbed the dirt on my legs. Then I noticed patches of light around the forest floor, that they were shifting as the sun passed overhead. I remembered learning that the redwoods are a rainforest, a temperate rainforest, and those moments of sunlight are all those sections of earth get all day, so dense are the trees. So whatever grows on the forest floor must thrive with mere moments of light a day.

I breathed deeply. I rubbed more dirt on my legs. Then I saw my foot was lit up with sunlight. I froze. Over several long moments, the sunlight began to move up my shin, eventually reaching my thigh, then my lap, then my torso. It was one of these threads of light, making its life-giving daily journey, and I was directly in its path.

I remained still, willing the light to pass over my face. I promised myself if I felt that light full upon my eyes, my lips, I would cast off my self-doubt, my social media sadness and cell phone addiction, my despair at not being able to artistically output everything I see, experience and feel. If the growth on the forest floor could thrive with mere moments of light in a day, think what I could do with all the brightness I have–my healthy body, my loving family, my creative friends, my Chairman Meow.

The light moved over my chest, my heart, my throat, and with my eyes closed and a redwood-size smile on my lips, the light illuminated my whole face. I was a new plant on the forest floor, struggling to grow roots, stretching toward the full force of Ra, Egyptian god of the sun, the very word “ra” meaning “creative power.”

So grateful.