Eating past words

When I first entered graduate school and the Allen lab, the memorable Garcia met me for drinks one afternoon at this semi swanky place in Madison that no longer exists. It was a wonderful experience that helped me feel like part of the lab and there were specific moments I've carried with me that I now reflect upon with an Indian Jones type grin.
I distinctly remember him talking about how he loved the city....the continual stream of interesting experiences, the bustle of people, the night lights and flow of energy. At the time my reaction was repulsion at the thought of that type of life. I thought a 'country girl' like me could never adjust or feel comfortable in a big city. How could constant stimulation be healthy? How could the lack of privacy, space and solitude every be a good thing???? I vowed I would never, COULD never live in a big city. It wasn't for me....I would drown in the homosapien sea, go crazy and be sick with longing for forests, stars and horizons.
But opportunity called and I choked back my fear and disgust. And now, on my last day in the biggest city, I realize what Garcia was talking about. I get it. And yes, I could live in a big city....at least for a while (and as long as I don't have bedbugs:).

Pestering Questions

The other day a co-worker was asking about my experiences and my upcoming departure....he asked me a question I initially dismissed, but it tossed and turned around my mind the way questions often do.....

"Did you put down roots here?"

Now I do feel like I did put down roots in Philly last summer, I still feel some connection to the city and at least a few people...but here? In the transparent layer of dust covering the impenetrable cement? In a city where everything has a predetermined place and box to fit into??? Where even chaos is manufactured and structured? If there were soil I could sink my taproot into then maybe I could have put down some roots instead of flitting along the surface of things, dipping in for the occasional adventure.

I'm left singing along with Dolly Parton...."But I never felt right in a garden so different from me. I just longed to be gone....so the garden one day set me free. I hitched a ride with the wind and since he was my friend, I just let him decide where we'd gooo oo oo.
When flower grows wild it can always survive, Wild flowers don't care where they grow."

Is this the end?

These last weeks have become the blizzard of my life. As this experience launches into the next, there are moments of introspection and reflections barely glimpsed out of the corner of my eye. Similar to licking any bullion cube of intense experiences, each moment is filled with a multitude of emotion, observations and connections, but the time to communicate them is lacking.

A few of the things though, glow through the continual mental muck......

Gratitude for the people who have opened their minds, hearts and in some cases homes...helping during desperate times and including me in life changing experiences

A new sense of confidence in myself......

And of course, exuberance for the memories of an amazing adventure! It's unrealistic to come away from this summer unchanged. I look forward to coming home...the comfort of familiar faces, to see the horizon again and of course the bliss of reuniting with kindred spirits (yu'all know who you are!). As I decompress, I'll be better equipped to poetically tell the story of these last few weeks.

But for now, I must cope with the conflicting emotions of excitement to be home and sadness to leave the new relationships recently forged in the fire of tension, stress and pressure.

Fear no my faithful followers!

Yes, I've been quiet for a few weeks. There are many new stories milling about in my mind and when I get a few minutes of solitude they will begin to pour forth. For now I will leave you with a few teaser headlines....

"Fear and Loathing in the Bedroom!" (no, it's not what you think....)
"Remember when...."
"Sultry blues in Harlem"
"Re-seeing the city"
"Muted experiences"