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Posts Tagged ‘freedom’

I read my horoscope last week & it said I needed to run away. I couldn’t agree more.

Tonight, after slowly walking the dogs around the block for the umpteenth million time, while Zephyr wandered away from me, because he’s figured out I can’t grab him if I have Trooper, I’d had it. I took the dogs home, threw their leashed in the basket, grabbed my purse & nearly ran out the door.

My car is gone. It died today again–died is becoming a word my jeep does more often than not now. Everything in my life is dying & breaking–my dogs, my jeep, my apartment. AND I’M TIRED!

So tired, and losing my patience with this slowness, this tedious, every day, slowness and breaking down, so I ran away.

You wouldn’t know it. You would call it “going out for the evening”, but for me, it was running away.

I rode my bike all the way downtown–me, on my bike! I rode all the way to Hot Italian, my new favorite bar/pizza spot–all white, black, marble, very modern. It shines & glitters. It’s clean. It’s  everything my life isn’t right now.

I ordered something with vodka, limoncella & ice. It was splendidly tall & fizzy. I flipped through Italian Elle & ordered fresh basil pizza with a thin, thin crust. And I didn’t think about the dogs once. Not once. No worry, no fretting, no nothing. I was free.

This has got to be what parents feel like when they have just given and given, and one day, that’s just it. There’s nothing left to give, if they don’t give to themselves, and fast.

There are so many things I don’t do anymore– leave town, for one, kayaking, tango. I need more time, out there, or just more time with me, sans dogs.

And the funny thing was, tonight? I wasn’t scared–not sitting alone at the bar, not riding my bike home at dusk without a light, not taking alleys, nothing. I felt free. And free is something I haven’t felt for a very long time.

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Eariler today I posted this on Twitter:

“The next time you pass a vast, open, grassy field, imagine me laying in it, supine, breathing in god; thanks, d. #quietspace”

Later, I got stuck in Friday gridlock driving back to Sacramento from Davis. I saw this field off the freeway just before the causeway and I quickly pulled off the last exit. It seems my asking the universe reminded myself to find my own vast open field. #smalljoys

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I wandered past a magazine shop today and remembered ReadyMade Magazine had used a quote I gave them about living in small spaces. Low and behold, Oct. was out and here it is.

REady Made

Written under my aka even, Dahlila Found, it reads:

” At age 36 I took my dog on an extended road trip though the Southwest, living in my jeep for eight months. I had a small tent and, for three months, I pitched it behind an outdoor shop in a small mountain town on the remains of a sand volleyball court. I bartended, worked in the gear shop, and showered at a local campground every three days–$3 for 8 heavenly minutes. I was clean, well fed and content with very little.”

That was actually an amazing time. I traveled alone with Shadow, my Australian Heeler all around the Southwest on mostly back roads, some even dirt. I rarely really knew where I was and I tried to always eat where the locals ate. No fast food, no interstates. Blue roads the whole way.

I landed in southern Utah just because I met some nice people and why not. I lived in my car, threw down my tent nearly anywhere–down a dirt road, up on a mountain. One morning I woke up in Arizona to discover I was about 40 feet from a grave marker on the side of a hill.

REady Made2

Love the picture! My tent was actually about that size.

The best part was I was rarely afraid. I had Shadow, who gave a good growl. And the people I met were always kind, generous and helpful, whether I was lost in Navajo territory–which I sometimes was–or my car broke down in mormon country, which it did. Strangers always helped.

It scares me to think about it, but I know if I lost everything I could survive out there. Maybe, not here in the city, but out there–way out there, I could.

Thank you ReadyMade!

 d.

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Squish, squish, squish. That’s the sound from Zephyr and I walking through the park today. It is cold outside. I’d say it’s about as cold as it gets here, w/o snowing, which it doesn’t, well, very rarely.

Still, I needed to get out and walk today, puddles or no puddles. So, I bundled up in a scarf (mine 😉 ), felt hat (not mine), gloves and groovy new thrift store sweater that I had scheduled to become a pillow cover and wrist warmers, but it is sooooo cozy and beautiful, however a tad bit small. It’s the creamiest peach, lightly speckled w/red, turquoise, brown, orange. It could be a free range egg; the speckles, the sheen. I want yards and yards of this yarn! (I would show you but if you’ve been reading (bless you) you know my camera dilemma. (BIG SIGH).

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The man collection is moving forward. I hooked a good length of a mocha scarf last night–longer this time–while watching Into the Wild–the story of Christopher McCandless.  (We’ve got a starlet connection w/access to movie previews.)  But I had to stop watching before the end, save the sorrow for daylight hours. The movie is exquisite. Photography, narration, all of it, beautiful. I kept praying for Alexander (Emile Hirsch) to survive, even knowing his end. Adapt or parish–hateful phrase, but seemingly true.

The look of utter loss and confusion he experienced on re-entry to L.A. of all places, and his urgency to escape. His peacefulness only found in wilderness, quite, emptiness. I get that. I am very familiar w/the escapist road trip: jeep, dog, books, tent, road. . . freedom. Yet near his life’s end, he writes “happiness is only real when shared.”

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Blessing a swift release to Heath Ledger. I feel rather stunned. What a tragedy. May he hook up w/Christopher M.; a shared, peaceful, wild, freedom.

what a day, dahlila.

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