this moment.

when you feel like you can do anything,

when fear finally released its tight grip,

and you know,

because you feel it

so strongly

from deep inside,

that great things are

about to happen,

waiting,

waiting is tough.

i feel great things are about to happen.

dreams will be coming true.

and so, i'm anxious.

for things to just happen.

right now.

then, i remind myself,

don't lose this moment.

this moment is your dream

coming true.

life as of late

Busy. 

It's what I do when I'm happy.  It's what I do when I'm sad.  I keep busy.  But lately, I'm just keeping busy because I'm trying to make my dream come true.  And be a writer.  

And in doing that, I'm also busy embracing life.  I went out for a night in the city a couple of nights ago, and I fell in love. 

It's amazing what you discover by just opening your eyes.  When you open your heart. 

Love may just make its way in.   

on making the imagined life real + the songs that transport me

2011 was a great year. 

Then, it wasn't.

November came, and my heart broke to pieces.

But, after two days of crying every five minutes (and thus, having to work with my office door shut because I didn't want everyone to see me in tears), after questioning the things I thought to be real, and after questioning myself and my ability to recognize truth versus my own made-up fantasy of a certain relationship or situation, I woke up. 

And I realized, then, that perhaps, I needed to find myself completely broken (again) to pick up the pieces.  I guess, at that point, I had no other choice but to do that.  I mean, I can wallow, feel sorry for myself, but what good would it do?  So, I vowed to make 2012 the year of doing things. 

This year, I am going to live the life I had imagined.

Make it real.

And to report on my progress, it's been a pretty good start.

* * * 

Now, on a completely different note, it's Thursday.  Time for music of the week.  But this time, I decided to make it about music that transports me in time.  Because songs have a tendency to do that.  They are like time machines.  

Wild Horses by The Sundays

Brings me back to afternoons at my desk, when I was working as a legal assistant,

pre-law school, but just wanting so much to be a writer.  So, during my breaks,

I read screenplays for the producer I worked as a reader for,

and feeling, this is the best job ever!

The Reason by Hoobastank

Sitting in the car with someone I loved so dearly, and just wanting so badly to freeze time,

or fast-forward it to when I was ready to be with him.  Again.  For good.

Don't Know Why by Norah Jones

That year of firsts.  First year in my very own place, when I couldn't afford a

coffee table, and dinner picnics on the living room floor was the best part of my day.

Hands by Jewel

Sitting at the park, up the hill from where I used to live.  And writing.  Searching.

I knew what I wanted, but I didn't quite know that I could have it.
That I could be it.

I know it has taken me a very long time.  Sometimes, it takes me awhile

to realize things, but now, I can see it. 

And I could. 

I will.

finding creativity

As one of my many new year's resolutions this year, I started taking writing classes again.  And after one of our ten-minute writing exercises, inspired by words and phrases around us, I came up with this:

It was a chain reaction
our heated and passionate
talks in the hallway
turned into sinfully good
times in our own created
enchanting island.

We were native souls,
flirty without a hint of care
but inspired at every turn
from the leather bound books
that embraced us to my
dangling braids the color of honey.

Sadie said I was dragging her old habit,
but the apple of my cheeks
still craved for your lips.

And oh, wasn't it a universal appeal?

She said stop fretting over that summer.
But what is less understood is that I didn't.
I just missed the chocolate deliveries
and honey-glazed turkey we shared.

After this writing exercise, I was tickled.  It was the closest thing to a poem that I've written in a VERY LONG TIME.  And probably not my best work.  We had ten minutes to flip through magazines and books for phrases that jumped at us.  And another ten minutes to put it all in one piece.  But still, I wrote a poem.  It was a breakthrough. 

Because you see, I have always believed that in able to write a poem, you have to be courageous enough to delve into your soul, tear your heart apart and pull it outside of you.  Let the world touch it and influence it.  Let the world break it, dissect it, and put it back to pieces.  You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable.   

After that class, I felt alive again.  Me again. 

And yesterday, I took these pictures during my hike.  I wanted to capture the remains of raindrops on a flower.  Not bad, I say.  :)

Watermark

There is something about music that transports me to another time: to a time past, to a time wished upon, or to a time imagined.  This song transports me to a time when I was searching.  Walking, hiking through a familiar path, but lost and trying to find a stable ground.  It reminds of a time I sat for hours on a bench that was awkwardly planted on the edge of a steep hill, slightly hidden away from the pathways.  Afraid of heights, it took awhile to convince myself to look down below.  But sitting on that bench, struggling with my fears, I felt free.  To search.  To explore.  And to let go.

deciding, choosing, committing.

I walked outside earlier,

after the rain had stopped,

and I was greeted by the smell

of the nearing winter.

I'm wistful for the year that's almost gone,

but hopeful for the days to come.  

For the new year.

It'll be a different year ~

different in many ways.

Because I finally chose,

and making a decision that can

change the course of my life

has got to be the most exciting thing. 

ever!

Many exciting changes. 

Many exciting things to come.

That's what happens when you finally decide

that your life is yours.

And you can choose to take it

wherever you want.

Live.  It.  The.  Way.  You.  Want.

I know it took me awhile.

To get here.

To decide.

To choose.

But, you see, it's not something I take very lightly.

Once I decide, once I choose,

I commit.

And I'm committing!

(to many changes)

(to dreams long overdue)

{smile}

p.s. i love this song.  :)

Photo via

Found

Before there was Glee, there was Fame.  I loved this show as a kid.  The first time I watched it, I fell in love.  With New York.  And I, too, dreamed of going to the New York City High School for the Performing Arts.

That seems so long ago.  My fingers dancing on piano keys.  My toes playing in ballet shoes.

But lately, I feel her again.

I guess, the inner child in us never dies.  Our childhood dreams remain in us.  And lately, I've found that who we were, when we were young and innocent and brave, is still who we are.  Sometimes, that young dreamer just gets buried so deep underneath all of life's expectations and responsibilities.

But I think I found her.  And I want her to know that no longer will I push her away.  That no longer will I listen to the voices that said say her dreams are silly.  No longer will I tell her that she can't do it. 

She can.

And no longer will I tell her that she can't follow her heart.

She should. 

She must.

Bridge to Terabithia

I just finished watching this magical, awe-inspiring film.  

And honestly, I've been sitting here for the last ten minutes trying to find the words to describe it and I just can't.

But, you know what it reminded me of?  Fifth grade.  It was after school, and my childhood best friend (who I'll call Jude after his favorite Beatles song) and I were sitting with our backs against the handball wall telling our usual stories about living in a gigantic mansion filled with kids that we adopted.  This huge mansion had a grand double staircase that we'd slide down from along with the two dozen kids.  The mansion had a music room with every musical instrument there is, and in the center of the room was a white grand piano.  For me.  Because I played the piano, and Jude sang.  We'd have concerts every night.  Jude loved music.  Especially the Beatles.  A day wouldn't go by without him singing me a song.  Our mansion also had a huge library filled with first editions of Dickens, Shel Silverstein, alongside the Encyclopedia Brown and Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators series.  I've always loved to read.       

Jude and I loved to tell stories.  I loved writing them.  While he wrote poems.  

It was those moments that it didn't matter that our (my) parents didn't agree with our friendship.  It didn't really matter that no one understood us.     

Because we understood each other.  We were twins in another life.  We both had this identical red dot on our palms to prove it.  

I remember that day we raced across the empty hallways, and repeatedly tried to perfect a home plate slide at the end.  We screamed and sang to the walls.  We were our own fans.  We were happy.  

Jude always told me I could be anything.                    

We were ten and eleven, but we really loved each other. 

Bridge to Terabithia reminded me of our friendship.  And it inspired me to embrace life.  To seek its possibilities.  To love fearlessly.  To dream.  And believe in them.  That's what Jude wanted for me.  That's what he saw in me.  And since he's no longer around, I have to do them for him.  For me.  For the memory of our friendship.  Live our dreams.  Enjoy and feel and experience this beautiful world and life that he didn't get a chance to.

Some childhood friendships are the most special ones.  In some cases, they have the biggest impact in our lives.  So much of who I was and who I have become is because of Jude.  

I miss him. 

         

Remembering our heroes

I had an amazing weekend.  But honestly, I feel a little weird saying that considering that this weekend is the ten-year anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, when so many lives were lost, and we as a nation grieved for them.  But personally, I think it was also a time when heroes stepped up, and provided hope.  And it is because of those heroes that I thought why not just write about this amazing weekend? 

You see, there are many heroes in our lives although many of them are often unrecognized.  But this weekend, I remembered mine.  And I realized that God does place certain people in our lives, at the precise time when we need them, and those people become our heroes to help us through, and give us hope.

On Friday night, I went to see the Tchaikovsky Spectacular at the Hollywood Bowl.  And just to warn you, you'll probably see the word amazing on this post many times, but it was just AMAZING!  The moment the orchestra started to tell the story of Romeo and Juliet, I felt as if this huge, heavy drape that was over my body began to lift up.  And as the music got louder, intense, and then soften to a romantic melody, I felt the drape drop away from me, and my body was free.  At that moment, I felt every sound, every note, that came from the orchestra.  And by the time Swan Lake began, I was me again.  Me before the tragedies of my life happened.  And I remembered the girl who wasn't afraid to express herself.  The girl who wore faded jeans, peasant tops and mismatched shoes, and always had daisies or sunflowers (or both) in her hair, even when she was often reminded that she was in the wrong decade (and was so out of season).  The girl who took her oversized Keroppi to school, and made sure he had a seat next to her in class (and this was senior year of high school).  The girl who made tape recordings to declare and profess her love to her high school boyfriend.  The girl better known as the memory keeper.  And the girl who was not afraid to stand up for a cause, and speak her mind.  The girl who wanted to be a dancer, an actress, a writer and a lawyer, all at the same time.

The girl before the conglomeration of tragedies. 

You see, the unfortunate consequence of tragedies are these protective layers that start to hover over us .  And the more tragedies that come our way, that protective armor, those huge, heavy drapes, or big, stone walls, become so great that we get lost in them.  And eventually, forgotten.

I became lost in mine.  For a long time.
 
But something happened this weekend.  Maybe it was Tchaikovsky.  Or I've just been reading a lot of old letters and journals.  Or it's the 9/11 anniversary.  However, I realized that we all have our stories and we all have our tragedies, but the tragedies of mine are no longer relevant.  What matters is that I survived them.  Because tragedies happen and will happen, but what matters is what we do with those tragedies.  How do we respond?   Do we fold?  Or do we fight for our lives?  For our happiness?  Now, looking back, I realize that although I was battered, bruised and broken for a long time, I always had some hope.  And when that hope was diminishing, God placed people in my life, to remind me of it.  To give it back to me.  To believe in me when I didn't believe in myself.            

On Saturday night, I went to the Harvest Crusade at the Dodger Stadium.  It was the most humbling experience.  And I felt rejuvenated.  Found.  But most of all, grateful.  And blessed.  As Chris Tomlin sang Amazing Grace, I thought, yes, it's because of God's grace that I'm here.  Happy.  Really happy.

And like the wonder of life, today I came across a treasure.  As I was cleaning up boxes of old documents and letters and books, I came across a manila envelope with the word "Speech" written across it.  Inside were copies of my junior high newspaper with my bylines in them; my elementary school "yearbook" where "lawyer" was written under my ambition; cards from my Speech coach encouraging me to be a winner; and a college letter recommendation from my English teacher.  By the time I finished reading the letter, I was crying.  Because, like I said, life happened and it was not so nice at times, and the letter reminded me of how God placed people in my life to help me through my battles.  My English teacher wrote the letter as a second, special recommendation after I got rejected from the university I really wanted to go to.  I hand delivered that letter to the University head of admissions after sitting in the waiting area outside of his office all day.  I still didn't get into the school.

But I am a lawyer as I aspired.   

And I thank my heroes for that. 


 

Photo: Flavio

young dreams die hard

 

          




















I finished the book!  And I'm a tad bit embarrassed to admit, but it made me cry.  Actually, it made me break down and cry.  Almost sobbing to the point that I had to stop for awhile (a few times) to wipe my tears, catch my breath, before I could continue.  Until the end. 

I haven't read a book that has made me feel that way.  Where I felt like I really knew the characters as I experienced their lives, apart and together, with them.  As if they were lifelong friends who I laughed and cried with.  As if I were them.  Because I felt the emotions that they felt.  Experienced their happiness, their disappointments, their pain, their loss, their love for each -- 20 years of these two characters' lives.  It was quite a journey ...

... that has inspired me to write.  Once again.  To continue writing.  Even if it's just here for now.  Until I find the time to write the stories I've been wanting to tell.  Honestly, sometimes, I think I may seem a little silly, y'know, keeping this blog ... but this blog keeps my passion for words, for photographs, for art, alive.  And David Nicholls, through his wonderfully crafted novel, has re-lit the fire inside my heart.  In a way, I felt like he read my journals and created Emma's character from them.  Y'know, her desire to be a writer.  Her young dreams of changing the world through words.

I can relate to that.

And her loyalty to love.  To loving Dex.

I could relate to that, too.     

I can't wait to watch the movie!

balloons and a whole lotta love

I said it was going to be a balloons kinda month.  Well, now I say, let's make it a balloons and a whole lotta love kind of month.  I read my post from last year, and you know, funny because I said I was going to make this month (last year) a month of challenges.  (Hmmm ... Didn't I just say I disliked this month because that's what it always gave me?)  Well, I guess, that's where it hasn't failed me.  Because I got that.  It was a month of challenges. 

But I also said I was going to make it a month of daring to become everything I dreamt of.  A month of resolutions.  I think I did that, too.  And I remember, that month, I also dared to approach everything with love.  To believe in love.  I think that's what got me through that month.  Last year.  I believed in love.  As I watched my stepdad slip further and further in his illness, his life slipping away, as my heart was being ripped out of me, and as I watched my family heartbroken and beaten, I felt more love than I ever did.  We were together.  And we held each other up through it all.  No words needed to be said.  We loved.  A lot.   

And that's something I will always be grateful for.  The love I have around me.  My wonderful friends.  My loving family.  We've all been through a lot of rainstorms together.  We've been through trials that would tear some relationships apart.  But, we stay.  We love.  No matter how difficult it is sometimes.

So, in celebration of all of that, I'm making this a month of love (and balloons!).  A month of recognizing love.  All around me.

For starters, I love my brothers!  I have the best brothers.   

photo: Caiti Borruso

some kind of mood.

I must be in some kind of mood.  I woke up at 4 a.m. today, and just could not go back to sleep.  I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling.  At the walls.  At the empty space next to me...

And instead of watching clips of the Anthony trial, I watched clips of Felicity.  Yes, I must be in some kind of mood.

Felicity talked about a secret language between her and Ben.  A language spoken without words.  A language I know pretty well.

I am in some kind of mood.  Because doing the right thing is sometimes the hardest thing to do. 

But sometimes, we just have to let the pieces fall. 

And trust, that they will be put back together the way they are meant to be. 

I finished The Alchemist.  And out of its many lessons and messages, this one is still my favorite:

"What you still need to know is this: before a dream is realized,

the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along

the way.  It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can,

in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we've

learned as we've moved toward that dream.  That's the point

at which most people give up.  It's the point at which, as we say

in the language of the desert, one 'dies of thirst just when the palm

trees have appeared on the horizon.' 

"Every search begins with beginner's luck.  And every search

ends with the victor's being severely tested."  

Yep, that's why I'm in some kind of mood.  

true love.

"You must understand that love never keeps a man from

pursuing his destiny.  If he abandons that pursuit,

it's because it wasn't true love ..."

(The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho)

I do believe in letting go.  My grandma always tells me that if two people are meant to be, they will be.  No matter the distance.  No matter the time.  So, don't be afraid to let go.   

And I've always heeded that.  

But it's definitely hard when we find that it wasn't true love.  That the person we let go never returned, and instead fell into the arms of another.  But again, if that's the case, then it wasn't meant to be.  Right?  

So, I still believe in letting go.  Like what the alchemist told the boy:

"Don't think about what you've left behind."

...

"If what one finds is made of pure matter, it will never spoil.

And one can always come back.  If what you had found was

only a moment of light, like the explosion of a star, you

would find nothing on your return."

The man was speaking the language of alchemy.

But the boy knew that he was referring to Fatima.

(The Alchemist)     

photo: weheartit

recognizing the good.

"when each day is the same as the next, it's because people

fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives

every day that the sun rises."

(The Alchemist - Paulo Coelho)

Like I mentioned before, I'm reading The Alchemist.  Again.  It's just one of those books that transports me back to a time when I was braver, when I had no fears.  No reservations.  No doubts.  When I was a child.  Who just dared to dream. 

Needless to say, it's a book that inspires me.  Reminds me to follow my dreams.  And reminds me that although bad things happen, there are many good things happening, as well.  Sometimes, we just allow the bad overshadow the good.  But really, there are more good.  The fact that we're breathing, we're alive, is one.  Probably, the most important one.

So, today (and everyday), I told myself, I will make an effort to recognize the good.  Because really, life is good.  :)         

photo: pixelmama

promise i won't forget again.

During my very brief absence here,* I worked on this writing project, and as a part of my research, I read old letters I never sent, old journals and blogs. I watched clips of television shows I loved as a kid.  I looked at photographs that inspire me and simply give me that "i'm happy" feeling.  I love pictures!  I looked through my collection of postcards.  I love them, too!  And all of that brought me back to a place that I had forgotten, but where my inspiration began.  And I was able to write.  I finished my writing project sooner than I had anticipated.   

Note on the clip above: I loved "The Wonder Years" as a kid.  And after watching clips of it again in the last couple of days, I still love it.  Love can be that simple.  Simply undeniable. 

 

*I didn't stay away for very long, huh?  Honestly, I just thought I couldn't do it all - work, my writing project, and this.  I was wrong.  This place is my drawing board.  My writer's journal.  My sketchbook.  My collage of thoughts and ideas and feelings.  My constant reminder: to dream, explore, feel, and act.  So, how can I stay away?   

color me red.

i've found that there is happiness

without that white picket fence.

*photo by Jaime

beginning and the end

It's July! My birth month. And has always been a month of beginnings and endings for me. A month of major changes. Maybe because it's summer. Or maybe it's because I just pay particular attention during this time of year - specifically, this month. Whatever it is, this year, I make this the month of challenges. Of daring to become everything we dream of. Of resolutions.

And today, I dare you (along with me) ...

... to just believe in love.
Whatever you do, approach this day with love in your heart.

*photo by thelastdisco

Believe.

"There [a]re two things that prevent us from achieving our dreams: believing them to be impossible or seeing those dreams made possible by some sudden turn of the wheel of fortune, when you least expect it. For at that moment, all our fears suddenly surface: the fear of setting off along a road heading who knows where, the fear of a life full of new challenges, the fear of losing forever everything that is familiar." - Paulo Coelho