365Beautiful... Day 15... Friends.. how many of us have em... (June 23, 2011)

Today is my friend Todd's birthday and a few people gathered at the local watering hole for a few drinks and to wish Todd well, including yours truly. I was feeling a bit ... off... tonight because of something that happened to me earlier. I didn't want to let it get to me and I was trying my hardest to put it in the back of my head.

Luckily, the night turned out to be incredibly entertaining. All of the people gathered around the table were in high spirits having continual conversation all around the table. Todd sat with his wife and was beaming with light and happiness. Slowly the event that had me continually shrinking into my own brain started to vanish, and I started to become immersed in the light of the people around me.

In all honesty, I can't say that the all of the people who surrounded me are, or ever will be "true" friends. Those that you can call to bail you out of trouble... or worse. But they were people who allowed me to share in their joy for that night; and, in doing so, pulled me out of some place I probably would have rather not been. I was able to refocus my priorities, feel an appreciation for life and re-envision what I wanted for myself.

The night didn't transpire in some magical place filled with luxury and decadence. It was.. in a bar. What I've dubbed "the old man bar" at that. But still, I feel thankful that I was able to share in at least a few hours of "funnitude" with Todd, my friends and his friends. Thanks for a beautiful night Todd, and Happy Birthday once again!. 

365 Beautiful... Day 15... (June 22, 2011) ... More Words

I know yesterday I talked about words, but I wanted to talk about words some more... because I love words. 

I love writing. As difficult as it's been for me to actually post what I'm writing online, I still love this journaling process. It's been three weeks since I've started and I really can't believe how fast the time has gone by. I've also found that this has become very therapeutic for me. Not only in the sense that I'm attempting at deconstructing what I thought was beautiful in myself and the world, but simply that I'm writing my thoughts down. 

I often feel that people are extremely rushed, myself included. Always going from point A to point B and sometimes making detours at point C. There's always something to get done within the next minute, always something to say to so and so before you forget. 

But we rarely take the time to listen to each other, to understand what other people have to say. We also forget to listen to ourselves, and to understand what we really want or, more importantly, need. 

This process really is forcing me to think about myself, what I want, need, desire and dream of. I've been able to evaluate and reevaluate the things around me. Writing is allowing me to listen to myself, and in doing so, I find myself wondering what other people have to say. Every person has a story to tell, and those stories... like Robert's or Paco's or my parents and many more I'm sure to encounter, resonate with beauty. 

365 Beautiful... Day 14 (June 21, 2011) ... Words

I have a great love for books. I wouldn't say an unnatural love, just a great, deep love. I've often been asked if I'd get one of those Kindle or Zoobs or whathaveyous and I immediately and firmly reply "no."


There's nothing more gratifying than reaching the last page of a good book and closing its back cover. Or folding down corners of pages and making little doodles in the margins, or sticking little mementos in between the pages and finding them later, like bus tickets and photographs.


One of my favorite past times is going to old bookstores or to flea markets and leafing through the older copies of books. While I'm intersted in the books themselves, I'm also secretely hoping that an old photograph falls out or that I stumble upon a dedication on the front pages.


Something like "Dear John, The poem on page 45 reminded me of the time we forgot the time...."


Ah yeah, I'm a hopeless romantic sometimes, but I feel that these little treasures fuel my imagination and hope for the human race.


Aside from their potential for harboring memories, I also love the way words can move you, can provoke memory or emotion.


Pablo Neruda has a poem, La Palabra that says:


Todo lo que usted quiera, sí señor, pero son las palabras las que cantan, las que suben y bajan… Me prosterno ante ellas… Las amo, las adhiero, las persigo, las muerdo, las derrito… Amo tanto las palabras… Las inesperadas… Las que glotonamente se esperan, se acechan, hasta que de pronto caen… 


or... in translation... 


You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend...I bow to them...I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down...I love words so much...The unexpected ones...The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop...

365 Beautiful... Day 13 ... (June 20, 2011)

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These rough looking flowers are growing downhill from my apartment. (Note: as of today, June 23, these flowers are gone. I think this post is more relevant to me now.)

They're prickly and jagged and don't look very appealing. But their colors are beautiful. From one bush sprout these tiny purple, white, pink, yellow and orange flowers. One right next to the other, scratching at each other's branches. 

I don't think anyone in the neighborhood really likes them, the people walking their dogs never really pay any attention to them. Yet they always point at the pink and white Angels Trumpets that peek out from a few of the homes. 

It's a bit comical to me, actually, that Angels Trumpets receive the coos, when their flowers are, in fact, very harmful. 

Well if you hadn't known it yet, now you do. Angels Trumpets are a highly toxic flower that causes hallucinations. 

Oh, but everyone loves to look at them. 

The other prickly little things just down the street from them, though, are completely harmless. The bees flood to them to extract their nectar and they stretch out their petals like little spikes when the sun comes up. 

I think I'm a bit like the scruffy little flower... and I really don't mind. 

365 Beautiful... Day 12 (June 19, 2011) ... Aves

While I know today is father's day and it would make more sense to do an entry about how beautiful I think my father is, I felt compelled to share this snapshot. It still relates to my father, and my mother.

For as long as I can remember, my parents have had birds in the home. Sometimes they've been loud squawking ones, other times they're quiet and demur. These birds in the photo have been a part of our backyard for what seems like years. Although, I know it hasn't been more than a couple of years.

They're very quiet and have attempted to procreate many times over. Some have been successful, others not so much. When the female is placed in a neighboring cage after she lays her eggs, they seem to gravitate to each other through the cage.

I could be completely misinterpreting it and it could be out of fear and not companionship that they do this. Nevertheless, these birds are beautiful creatures. I've always had an affinity toward birds, perhaps because they remind me so much of my parents.

I love how delicate they seem and how strong they really are. How they're able to fly for miles at a time with things so light as a group of feathers attached to their bodies. I love that they're always singing and constantly moving. How they build their homes where a home needs to be.

I love them so much I've had one made a permanent part of my body. (I believe this will be another entry sometime in the future.)

I love to imagine that I can be a bird and fly home when I want to, or see the world when I need to.

365Beautiful... Day 11 (June 18, 2011) ... Dedication

I work at an organization called Proyecto Pastoral, for those of you who weren't aware. Every year they host a woman's conference. Over 300 women attend and are provided with workshops on healing, wholeness, health and empowerment, among others. From the very beginning, I took it upon myself (and the rest of the youth program staff) to coordinate the Young Women's workshops.

It's always an empowering day for everyone, that goes without saying. The thing that always strikes me the most is the work that is done behind the scenes. When all the women are in the workshops, the staff and volunteers are outside hauling boxes of free items, cases of water, folding and unfolding chairs, dragging garbage bags back and forth. It's incredible, the amount of energy that goes into creating this day long conference.

Today was the third conference I assisted with. I regret that this was the only photo I was able to snap of this day. The photo above is one workshop I was assisting with on, of all things, deconstructing beauty.

It was pure coincidence, honestly.

Most of the young women in the workshop talked about beauty being on the inside and creating power with our personalities. Those young women who had more traditional views of beauty were younger women, and those who had not been a part of the conference before.

The young women who said that beauty was defined by our internal strengths all had attended the conference year after year.

This is amazing - I thought.

Later that day I went down to help out with the end of day logistics, and as I mentioned before, its wonderful to see everyone working so hard to make the day happen.

What I really wish I would have gotten a photo of were the 8 or so women (staff and volunteers with the organization), gathered to sip on margaritas with pride for the work they had accomplished that day. Myself being in one of this group, looked around at the rest of the women sitting there; their hair disheveled, t-shirts dusty and faces dirty and flushed from the sun, and thought I had never seen more beautiful women in the world.

365Beautiful... Day 10 ... Sighs (June 17, 2011)

This afternoon I was able to take a drive down Pacific Coast Highway as the sun began its descent into the horizon. I'm not a very big beach person, but I can't deny the beauty, serenity and power of the ocean. 

I snapped a few photos along the way, and this one I caught while I was pulled over at a small turn-off. I found myself sighing every time the waves hit the rocks and taking deep breaths when the tides pulled back. 

I talk a lot about emotion, and I know I'll talk more about it as the days pass, but maybe my (and others)  connection to their emotions is what can make me (and others) radiate with beauty. 

I find sighs to be extremely powerful. It can be filled with desperation, with hope, with memory, with love. 

I imagine that if sighs could be physically manifested with color and texture, each one would be different, like snowflakes. Our lungs transforming into factories of breath and emotion, assembling our sighs and pushing them up our esophagus. Some emerging from our mouths pink and soft like cotton candy, other heavily floating out gray and dense like rain clouds. Sometimes they'll come out in prolonged puffs of glittering gold powder, floating with the wind and other times in different bubbles of colors: pinks, greens, blues and purples, tickling our noses and making our toes wiggle. 

The connections we can have to our bodies are amazing, I think I'll continue assigning colors to my sighs.