Who Are You?
I finally archived the bio that I wrote in 2011, feverish in Humboldt County. Though much hasn’t changed and I still get IDed at the airport and write in longlonglong sentences, it felt time to make that ramble a blog entry rather than my standing bio. Now the WHO? page is short (we’ll see how long that lasts) and I suppose sweet, though still featuring my blurry selfie from that drippy green era of life, because I miss Humboldt and I miss the compulsion to blog so vulnerably with no restraint, miss the way I approached this space during that timeframe.
I don’t think I’ll ever go back to that sort of blogging, because that place of unrestraint came from total isolation. I had a roommate who is now a dear friend, but I was so bloody lonely and stuck in my own head during my own time in Humboldt. I made sure to keep to myself, to not make friends. Called it my semester of solitude in attempt to recover from an on and off again 5-year-long not-so-good relationship. That semester, I went to one house party and briefly fell in love with a body named Bread and then went salsa dancing at a university event only to puke into muddy ferns bordering a parking lot (I attended the community college). I went to class, took walks in the forest, drove too fast, and blogged. If I look at my blogging patterns, I’m most prolific and INYOURFACE when I’m in a period of Alone. Whether that’s living at my parents’ house, or in Berkeley or Arcata, or re-settling in Colorado. And, you know, I don’t want to go back to those times, no matter how fundamental and mesmerizing they are in memory. I have no way of knowing what’s to come, but I don’t think I’ll be going back there anytime soon.
I’m in the process of moving into the studio directly below my own to save money for reasons that will eventually be revealed. My smallest move yet. Dragging my belongings bit by bit down the stairs I go up and down and up and down every day. Setting myself up in the studio I’m currently writing from now. No car involved. No shipping. No surprises. Same layout. Same 380 sq ft. But shared. Moneymoneymoneymoneymoney. Less room to stretch and dance because down here there is a couch and TV circa 2004 or something. And then in the spring/summer/sometime soon? A far bigger move. Again the Mini, which is being prepped with a roof rack and cargo box. It only took me moving 10 + times in a go cart to give into utilizing its roof.
I suppose this blog is an ode to my need to move, my need to travel, my need to stir it up. Unplanned moves of the future, BRING IT.
(Who will I be 12 hours from now? Who are you today?)