Indian Rock.

April 16th, 2009

Thank you all so much for the get well wishes! I’m happy to say that I’m feeling MUCH better. While a bit of cough and sore throat still remains, most of my energy has returned and I’m back to my old twirling and jumping self.

I’ve felt so much better the past two days, that I even went out exploring. Living in Berkeley without a car and very few friends, I make an effort to go wander and discover hidden gems at least once a week. This has become one of my ultimate favorite things to do.

Basically, I put on a good pair of shoes, sometimes bring my iPod, and grab my camera. Then, I walk. I get out of downtown (where I live) and simply wander. I typically go in the evenings, but I give myself at least three hours of sunlight, because I WILL get lost at some point.

But getting lost is the best part. I’ve found some of the most beautiful random things on these walks – a secret rose garden, a deserted mansion, mind numbing views of the entire San Francisco Bay, a field of flowers, a hidden river running through the city…

On Friday I discovered the best place yet. It’s no hidden gem, in fact, after doing some research, I realized it’s a rather known spot. But for me, it was an absurd and random place. I was giddy. After becoming quite lost, I was gleeful at my finding.

It had simply started as another unique street. Every house its own home. Every tree dancing to its own beat. I caught my breath though, when it ended, and before me stood a great huge boulder. Three times taller then all the houses it surrounded.

I approached it and grew even more thrilled as I saw people were sitting at the top. Despite wearing a dress and becoming more fatigued with every minute, I had to find a way up. I had to reach the top. Lucky for me, I discovered that jagged steps had been carved up the rock.

I walked. Step by step. And with the higher I got, the more incredible the view became.

Indian Rock

I wish I had a better camera. A camera that could capture what my eyes saw. All of Berkeley. All of San Francisco. The buildings of Oakland. The Bay Bridge. The Golden Gate Bridge. The entire Bay Area. It stopped me cold, it was so beautiful and so unexpected.

Indian Rock

I sat. The air brisk, but slightly warm. The sun out, but not so strong that it burnt my skin. I sat and looked out all around me. If you ever come to the Bay Area, I highly suggest you spend an evening enjoying the sun set beyond the Golden Gate Bride from Indian Rock. There are a lot of nice sitting areas, so perhaps have a picnic, too!

I’m not ashamed to admit that, despite it being over an hour away on foot, I returned to the same spot yesterday. Nor am I going to deny that I’ll probably be back again sometime in the next few days. It’s just such a lovely, peaceful spot. So inspiring…

Speaking of which, I’ve been writing a great deal. Churning out words at a faster rate then normal. It’s all material for FALLING INTO YESTERDAY, which is quite exciting. FIY’s plot is much more tricky and woven then A FEAR OF TEARS, so it’s fantastic feeling to have points finally come together.

Anyway, how was your weekend?

Under: , , , , — @ 5:29 pm


A Ramble.

March 10th, 2009

Back in February, I looked at the up and coming month with little enthusiasm. I told myself that March would be a month of healing, a month of serenity… I insisted that I didn’t mind that there was little occurring and a great deal of empty boxes on my calendar.

And then last week happened. Dalia and I skipped through the Bay Area and ran through the heavy clouds. And somehow, events fell into place and ideas were made. My calendar went from being blank and sad-looking to bright and happy.

I must admit, I’m quite pleased with all the days awaiting me. I have a multitude of bright events to look forward to, trips that get my blood pumping at the mere thought of them…

But wait, at that thought, I realize that I’m being ridiculous, because today was beautiful in itself. The last ten hours have been extraordinary in the absolute simplest way. I slept in late, wrote for a while, enjoyed a mug of tea, and then went for a two hour walk and found a lovely view of the bay. As the next three months literally become brighter with my thick sharpie writing, I only realize more and more that it’s not what you do, but how you go about doing it. A week can be free of writing, empty of plans, but it still has the chance to be the greatest week of your life.

Hell, what if you made every week the best week ever?

I don’t know. I’m rambling myself into a complete circle. My thoughts are everywhere today, loose and sprinting beyond my reach. The point of what I’m trying to say is simply that you can spend an entire day sick in bed, but that doesn’t mean the day is set in stone in its terror. It’s all about the perspective, all about the mindset.

Anyway, I fly down south to Long Beach tomorrow. A plan that was made only yesterday. It shall be a lovely week indeed.

Under: , , , , , — @ 6:27 pm


The Writer
Nineteen year old unpublished author. California native. Victim of extreme wander lust. Avid reader. Lover of rain, mountains, and moody oceans. A firm believer that a day is not productive without hours of writing involved. The girl who dances alone in corners.

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