Six years ago I woke up to this loud doorbell, so I got up to open the door for some really annoying people who lived upstairs, and then tried to get back to sleep to the sounds of the 101. That didn't happen, so I got up to cook, and listened to a really powerful emotional song with deep significance in this journey. I came back to my room to sit in front of my collage of various photographs from travels around the world, people who had loved me whom I still loved, and places I've lived. And looking up at this whole puzzle working together in the shape of a heart had me feeling so very truly lonely with the isolation and pain of the world I'd come to know and made the tears flow like waterfalls I'd seen in places of beauty radiant and so serene. Then I looked up, and saw the light reflecting from the heart of a hard working artist who knew how to manage, and I rose, thanking heart art while dedicating my energies to making the heart larger. What a lesson to learn... the battles of loneliness and sadness overcome with the expansion of the expression of heart's love.
That day I worked so hard on my art because I didn't have to go to work teaching language to international students. I worked five hours a day, four days a week, because that's all they had at the school in San Francisco where I worked and basically learned how to manage diverse classes.
Even when I lived on the opposite side of the country from everyone I was truly close to, I had people. Those souls living the many walks of life have been my teachers ever since. I hadn't seen any of my closest friends or family in a year, but human connection was always somewhere near.
Viewing all that from today's point of view, I feel strengthened, although similarly if not more tired than I did way back then, when I didn't even have a box spring or a chair sturdier than my fold-out camping chair (which I called my "director's chair," because I worked there). Now I work full-time, and that means seven full teaching hours four days a week, and four on Friday morning. I've been getting more sleep than I had that night six years ago, but not always. Broadway can be much louder than the 101, although I've expressed creativity in both cities. I've met so many people who improve journeys.
Eventually, I met one who completed two years of study today, because she has to move to another place of study, as per the rules. She's a real artist with exhibits and so on, specializing in collages. Because I'd asked her the previous day where one could check out her art, today she presented me with a copy of a collage she made from newspapers named "Bable." She is truly "A" talent. I said something to the effect of her being a "real" artist, and she responded that I was one, and that put a smile on my face... temporarily. There are always more on the way
That day I worked so hard on my art because I didn't have to go to work teaching language to international students. I worked five hours a day, four days a week, because that's all they had at the school in San Francisco where I worked and basically learned how to manage diverse classes.
Even when I lived on the opposite side of the country from everyone I was truly close to, I had people. Those souls living the many walks of life have been my teachers ever since. I hadn't seen any of my closest friends or family in a year, but human connection was always somewhere near.
Viewing all that from today's point of view, I feel strengthened, although similarly if not more tired than I did way back then, when I didn't even have a box spring or a chair sturdier than my fold-out camping chair (which I called my "director's chair," because I worked there). Now I work full-time, and that means seven full teaching hours four days a week, and four on Friday morning. I've been getting more sleep than I had that night six years ago, but not always. Broadway can be much louder than the 101, although I've expressed creativity in both cities. I've met so many people who improve journeys.
Eventually, I met one who completed two years of study today, because she has to move to another place of study, as per the rules. She's a real artist with exhibits and so on, specializing in collages. Because I'd asked her the previous day where one could check out her art, today she presented me with a copy of a collage she made from newspapers named "Bable." She is truly "A" talent. I said something to the effect of her being a "real" artist, and she responded that I was one, and that put a smile on my face... temporarily. There are always more on the way
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