Just do it

For some reason or another, I have always wanted to run away. I guess, I felt trapped. Trapped to this life. I don’t know, I wanted so much more out of life. I wanted adventure, travel, freedom, truth, peace, happiness. And yet, when I had  the opportunity, when the butterfly decided to land on my finger, I did not taken hold of it. I feared it and ran away instead.

I have been so blissfully happy in the Honduran mountain top where I picked coffee and played music and sang songs to the skies, the rivers, and waterfalls and I could have stayed, but I didn’t… why did I come back?

I have been in an airport on the brink of staying in Mexico permanently and making a living there, and I did not do it. I returned to the responsibilities of school, and work and commitments our society has imposed on me. Why did I run from this door that opened itself to me?

I have always wanted to travel freely, without an agenda or plan, just with the compass of intuition pointing arrows to my path. I’ve met only a couple of people like this in my life. Among them was Pasqual, “the french traveler.”

He was a traveling musician and carried around a saxophone with him. He made a few dollars here and there as street performer, and made it all the way to California from France. He worked on a boat, on many farms,  hitched rides, and had various living arrangements, but most importantly he wore his heart on his sleeve. His eyes shown a vulnerable humility of a child I can’t begin to describe. I only knew him for an evening, the very evening I ran away to live in San Luis Obispo but I felt as if I knew him my whole life. I know it sounds strange.

I asked him how he is so free, and fearless. I asked him what made him do it… what made him leave his home and family. And his answers were pure, simple, and clear. He was like a version of my own fearless self. He was the person I aspire to be. His dream was to reach Brazil. And last I heard, he did. I only have his memory with me, and his collection of French music he shared with me that evening.

However, that night, we did not touch, nor kiss, but I could say I loved him. It was love. In fact, I distinctly remember him saying he loved me. But how could it be? And how could it be that I also somehow loved him too? As lovers, to love is the easiest thing to do. You would think, I’d of gone traveling with him but when he asked me to join him, I feared and turned away.

To think of it now, I beat myself up. Everything I desired at that point in time with my life, had fallen on my lap. Pasqual was like a shooting star that fell from the heavens and landed on my step and I did not run away with him…. why?

I feared. I feared and to this day Pasqual is only a dream, like a pegasus in the sky.

I’m not sure If another door will open, or another shooting star will fall for me, nor do I know if another butterfly would land on my finger, but If I am granted another chance, by God, I have got to just do it!

This life is precious and only given to us once why not live it as I have always longed to live it. At least, do it for me… if a chance like this ever comes your way… please, please take it. Jump, don’t run, don’t fear.

Just do it.

 

yours truly,

 

bluebird

 

 

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Dream of the Horizon

I don’t know why but today I am remembering a dream… a dream I fondly remember. It is a reoccurring dream where at times I am running, walking, chasing. The most recent one I had, I was even riding a bicycle but I swear, it always feels like I am flying.

It kind of reminds me a little of Salvador Dali’s painting of a melting clock in the orange sunset sand, kissed by the deep, warm orange light of the setting sun. All I see is the Southwest terrain, perhaps even cacti on either side of the path. Ahead of me, is a straight and clear path leading me to the horizon and for some reason I feel I can touch it, reach it, and take hold of it.

I feel blissful just staring at it. Happiness is at my reach and I am always so willing to chase it. I don’t have a reason for this chase now but when I am dreaming I know what is at the end of my journey… something gold, fluid like honey, prosperous… these are empty words I am using to try to explain what the promise of the horizon gives me.

I am always alone in this journey but I never feel empty, rather I feel whole. I am completely and utterly contempt living in the present, in awe with the view in front of me. I am in the moment and completely focused in on the view of the Southwest geometric rocks of red and the contrast of the dark outstretched shadows. It almost feels as if I have entered another dimension.

When I am dreaming this, I not only remember the dream as one I have had before, I know what is at the end of my journey. However I always, always wake up before I reach it. Last time, I ended up with a flat tire and searching for a bike repair shop. I wounded up in a cave with a nomad couple who happened to own a bicycle shop and had offered to fix my bike as a form of gratitude for seeking the light, the horizon and chasing the sun. They had given me a sort of blessing to continue my quest, whatever it is…

I’ve had a rough couple of days lately, because as of late this chase of mine, this dream of mine, seems almost unreal, hopeless. I doubt. I fear. But all that aside, like Paulo Choelo puts it…I am a “warrior of the light,” and I’ll die chasing the sun if I have to. Yes, I will doubt. No, I will not surrender. It is  only this I know and I’ll do my best to seek it, to chase it, to find it.

yours truly,

 

Bluebird

 

 

 

 

Own your crazy

It is a hot day. I feel it at a high of 85 degrees and I am home hibernating. No one is around and this is my alone time and my me time which I rather quiet enjoy.

Yes, I am a lonely person. No, I am not sad. I am lonely by choice. I enjoy my solitude, my world. I know I am peculiar person, a strange one, a perplexing one, and I accept it now. Finally.  I accept it. Lately, I have been having this urge to run away again, and go off to another adventure. I reckon an adventure soon… I look forward to be as silent as a tree, or a cloud, and still as a mountain. I look forward to hiding among them.

How can I be sad when I am outdoors, in front of a body of water, in front of a mountain, the sea, the shore? If I am laughing, singing, writing, I am happy. If I am dancing, running, flying, I am happy. I don’t need company. I am happy to simply be living. I am happy to simply be human, born human, with the sensibility of a human. Think how miraculous to be born a human and not a fly,  an ant, a lizard? Why waste the breath we were granted and the spirit we were housed with?

You know, I’ve always wanted my very own version of the Walden Pond, away from society. I always fancied the idea, I’ve always admired that lifestyle. I also have always visualized myself living this way or some kind of rendition of it. I don’t know why I do?

I don’t know why I love Steinbeck’s writing and his works. I don’t know why I have so much respect for Joan Baez and Bob Dylan, Paulo Choelo, Whitman, or Mark Twain. What is it about Frida Kahlo and Emily Dickinson, Audrey Hepburn, or Marilyn? What is about John Lennon, Selena, Bob Marley, that is so entrancing? I don’t know why I like what I like.

Why is it that I like the sound of the train? The smell of house paint or glue? Why do I like the way I feel the pen in between my fingers, or I like the stride of ink glide onto my paper? I don’t know why I like all this sad sappy stuff. Why I am so damn compassionate to the point of brink? I don’t know why, but it will never change… I was born this way and it is about time I learn to embrace it, own my crazy…  After all, I am only a moth looking for her light.

I know I am some sort of crazy but I know I am also beautiful. I feel it. I feel beauty when all the butterflies I’ve seen today have flirted around me, twirling around my aura and scent. I feel beauty when the hummingbird leads me or the little boy at the market feels bashful in front of me. I feel beauty when a gentlemen holds the door for me… I feel beauty in a gust of wind sweeping past me.

I am strange and beautiful, as are you. I know you feel beauty too. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. So, its time to own it… Own your crazy. There is only one of me and one of you in this entire world, and we have a chance to shine, to speak, to be the change we want to see and by all means do it. We do need it….

respectfully yours,

Bluebird

 

More will come

There are a lot of things I keep to myself. I keep them in, in my world just as I know them to be, without another’s vision of it to cloud my view.

No one knows my personal battles, personal conflicts. But, we all have them. We all have to learn to deal with them. We all have our own path and journey we are walking with a world of symbols that we empower… I just hope I follow the signs, the symbols.

We all learn to deal with them on our good days, it is hardest to deal with them when things go wrong or take a turn. Today, I had some bad news for me. But, I got to remember that things will go wrong. It is inevitable and the truth is we can’t have it all. We can’t all be happy all the time. We have to remember all the reasons we should be happy. It isn’t easy but it can be done.

Really, I have nothing to moan about… nothing to weep about. I am under the Monday afternoon sun, writing, with my pup on my lap. I’m hoping to move out soon. I’m singing. I want to do an open mic this coming Sunday. I am young, I am healthy, I am safe. I have warmth. I have shelter. What should I complain about? Why should I insult my blessings. More will come, when we do right by us, more will come.

Life is too beautiful to be worried about struggles, or pains, giving them more importance they they deserve. Other things need to be shined upon. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. There is freedom from the cacoon stage, and we’ll fly out with wings in due time. I have hope and faith in this.  I’ll take it to the grave believing this if I have to. Keep on longing, dreaming, searching, it won’t abandon you nor will it leave you astray.

so, chin up. Have faith and hope, more will come.

 

your very own,

 

bluebird

 

 

Wish me luck!

I will be singing tonight at my local wine bar and I am feeling rather nervous. It is so humbling to be on stage. But you know, It’s not very often I am on stage so I am going to enjoy it as much as I can and remember why I sing, for who I sing for….

The songs I cover are so close to my heart and many peoples hearts because they heal the soul somehow. They provoke emotion of some kind and even go as far as touch the heartstrings of your soul. At least that is what it does to me. I want to be able to transcend such emotion. If I have done this than I used the stage and microphone for a good purpose and I did not take my time on stage for granted.

 

Wish me luck please! I sure do need it.  I am facing fear head to head and I think I’ve got a chance!

be courageous and face your fears, good things always come after it.

 

Always, always,

 

your very own,

 

Bluebird

To Happiness

Hi.

It’s been a while and I felt like writing. Whenever I need help discerning things, I write. It is my therapy, my lifeboat from a sea of emotions. This pen and I, we will always be. I have so much to voice about and this pen and I,  have a long journey ahead of us with a long tail of our past we are learning to haul around and live with. This pen will be the only true relationship I will have with me my whole life through. However long or short. It is the extension of my voice and an extension of me. The best me I can be and I want to be the best me I can be.

As of late, I  have been trying to enjoy my life. You know… live it up, seize the day, suck in all the juice of the day. And I’ll tell you, lately I have.

I am singing like a song bird. I am using my voice. I am raising my own plants. Speaking up like never before and enjoying my solitude. I love being a barista and making coffee. I love Los Angeles, the sun, my family, my people. I couldn’t ask for more. So yeah, its been too nice to be blue or cloudy lately.  I almost feel like a transformation of self… Almost like a metamorphoses of sorts. I feel myself transforming. Is that strange?

I think I have found and ending to my book… You see, I only write and have only written because I have been in pain, in sorrow. But you see why be in a lifeboat when I can swim in the sea? why walk when I can fly? why write, when I can sing? why live in a cacoon when I can be a butterfly with wings?

My voice is my instrument. It would be foolish of me to waste it. Even if it means failing. I know how to loose. I’ve lost so much already.  So I’d rather loose for something I am passionate about than to loose to something I don’t care for. This life is to be lived, to enjoy.  And how they say, “Tenemos que chupar el jugo del dia,” or “We need to suck the juice of the day, ” like the honeybee or the hummingbird.

So even if it means slaving away and living humbly. Making a living as a barista counting pennies and stretching money,  If I am happy, that is all that matters. The best adventures I have had been when I was penniless.

So let’s do it! let’s be happy. Here is to happiness and to our pursuits.

Cheers!

 

yours truly,

 

bluebird

 

 

 

Keep on, Dreaming on

I have lived very beautiful moments in my life. I forget all that I have lived. I’ve seen the sun mist morning pastures of Honduras in the early rise of the morning where I was woken up by the call of the rooster and the morning song of the birds. I spent hours upon hours laying on a hammock singing my favorite songs and dabbling with the guitar.  I have fallen asleep to the moonlit night in the wide open space, glazing at the mouth of the universe. I have seen a wave the size of Moby-Dick himself, threaten me with its omnipotence. And when I went winding up the hills of Italy, I wanted to kiss the foothills that have allowed me to behold its great beauty. I’ve seen the sunset of New Mexico against its red skin sand bleed in a blanket of warmth. I have many a moments when I have been humbled like a grain of sand and I had to swallow a lump of tears down my throat.

I have felt at times I’ve flown a car above the San Luis Obispo hills, high from society and I kid you not, it almost seemed like California cows were floating with the clouds. My life has been so full of dreams, so surreal, so lucid and so spectacular. I forget life is truly magical. Books can be written about the characters I’ve met. Shall I tell you about the Unicorn, Jack Nass or the French Traveler,  Pasqual? Should I tell you about the artist, the peacemakers, the dreamers, and the romantics?

I wish I did them all justice. Maybe one day but I have got to remember all that I have encountered to remind myself all that I am capable of.  Away, with my self-limiting habits!

Right now, I am the moth following the stream of light. I am dreamer looking for her dream… It is just a matter of time before I find the light.

Here is to wishing, waiting, to longing. Keep the fire burning, keep the light alive.  Keep on dreaming. Keep on dreaming on! Cheers.

 

your one and only,

 

bluebird

The Time is Now

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Sign of Spring. Orange blossoms from our orange trees.

This Spring I have plans to unearth my love for raising plants.

When I was 12. I was deeply depressed. Sometimes we forget how lonely it is to be young. We forget how much we understand and comprehend…I call it my silent stage. Since I spoke to no one and no one spoke to me. Not my immediate family or friends. I preferred my solitude. You see, this way no one could hurt me. I was like this for many years. And the only that kept me sane was this pen and caring for our plants. We forget plants are living things. They teach and feel and I love my fruit tress more than you can imagine.

So in honor of the 12 year old girl who felt peace in caring for her Pomona fruit trees and plants, I shall rekindle that spirit in me and grow herbs and flowers and lavender for luck.

Father says to wait until the second moon. That should be in about 28 days, give or take. You see, my father was a farmer in his mother land, El Salvador, and I trust his green thumb in raising fruits.

All I want to do is raise fruits, flourish, provide and give. I’m tired of quieting. I am tired of silencing.

So here is to and end of quieting. I shall raise my voice, sing, and speak. I shall grow my garden and raise my own kings. I’m ready to blossom and bloom and there is no time like now.

The time is now.

Until then.

your very own,

bluebird

 

P.S. Tomorrow I will be recording some songs on SoundCloud. Wish me luck!

 

 

California Lavender

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I found this hue this morning lovely. It was an early morning crisp, a cool breath of air, under the greyish blue cloudless sky. Purple and grey go well together so I took a shot at it to try to capture the beauty I see before me.

It grows wild here on my commute to work, upon the hills, in many paths and crossways, including people’s yards if not tamed. They can grow like weeds.

I also love Lavender, there is so much one can do with lavender… lavender candles, soaps, scrubs, chocolates, even coffee I have just learned. Try a lavender latte. It’s so delicate.

It is all in the little things.

 

yours truly,

bluebird

 

p.s. I will be performing next wednesday at my local wine bar. Wish me luck!

 

 

“peace required”

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I saw this by happenstance today. I had gone to Los Angeles Union state to pick up my brother from the station and figured well, might as well say hello to the city. I had been wanting to see it. And one yes triggered another. It was rather serendipitous that way.

If it weren’t for the random parking space I found with so much space, where there was no parking space to be found whatsoever. I figured well, “none of these cars have parking permits and they seem okay, so I should be okay.” I said yes to the gut feeling and went ahead and parked there. As I was exiting I saw someone else had just parked there too and figured I would ask him if this parking area was safe.

Again, thinking how incredibly lucky to have found parking in the Arts District of Los Angeles. If it weren’t for the serendipitous parking spot, I would have never have asked the man in the parking lot if it was safe, and if I would never have asked, he never would have told me about the free art event going on in ArtSpace LA and if I didn’t know about ArtSpace through this stranger man in the parking space to tell me about the art event, I would never have come across this fine photograph.

It is because I said yes to the gut feeling.

I got to get used to hearing this gut feeling.

I got to trust it, it has not failed me so far.

 

Your truly,

bluebird