June Moon

It was a cloudy day, but the sun was still visible, trying it's best to warm the channel between Santa Barbara and the islands. Boats sailed by. People passed walking their dogs. And we talked... and talked... and talked. About the recent election. About traveling. About music. About families. About where we've been, where we want to be... and then,
"I never do this, you know, meet someone out somewhere, get their number, go on a date."
"Really? Are you kidding? I never do this. I never have, actually."
"Really?"
"Serious."

"So then..." he said with an amused and pleased smile, "I find it quite interesting that here we are, on this bench, two people who never do this, but are now, with each other. Very interesting."

And I knew it was the beginning of something, what, I couldn't anticipate, but that something was going to happen. Somehow, even though I couldn't guess how things would turn out, I knew that I would, should move forward with no regrets. I told myself, you can handle whatever may come of this... this instant chemistry with a handsome, driven and thoughtful man who grew up on the other side of the world... who would be moving back home in seven months.

And it was so very very fun... because of this I was challenged, I laughed, made other new friends, and felt my thirst for experience and knowledge about the world expand. How glad I am that it happened, and even gladder that I experienced caring about someone and being cared about in a way that left absolutely no regrets but gratefulness on both sides. And though the romance ended, the friendship has not.

So a few days ago, we ended up, unplanned, in that same spot from months before, overlooking the ocean, and talked as friends the night before he flew away, with a June moon shining down instead of a November sun.

Know yourself and proceed accordingly, but seize the day with a grip so fierce you'll remember how it felt in years to come.

stunder som den här *

There's this song that I love that is from a band that played at the summer camp I went to while I was in high school. It poetically lists some of the most lovely things that you can have memories of with people you care about... the songwriter tells of dances in the ballroom, sailing until the dawn, going through the fields to camp on the grass with all of his friends, telling stories by the fire and falling asleep under the stars... I think that ever since I first heard this song I've subconsciously held these things in my mind some of the highest forms of true fun you can have with friends.

The songwriter also lists a few things for whomever he's singing to about what will remind him of them, and hopefully, what will remind them of him... "you'll remember me when you see the horizon melt into the sea"... some beautifully written verses.

For friends we have to say goodbye to, whether for a short or long or uncertain time, what a lovely thing it is to have made the most of your time with them, for it to have been quality time, and for you to part knowing that it will be truly good things that will remind you of each other.

I said goodbye on Thursday, and upon reflection, I will think of my Swedish friends when I...

have a bonfire in my backyard
hear the anthemic, explosive beat of good house music
choose to walk instead of drive to downtown
go to Northstar Cafe...it was like a second home
don't take the sun for granted even though it's easy to do here
go to Indochine and (if the music's right) dance the night away...

I will remember J in particular when I...

see the color coral this summer
lay out at the Villa Constance pool (May Grey and June Gloom stole a few afternoons from her though)
next go to the Boathouse
go to Urban Outfitters
grill salmon this summer
see a beautiful girl who can't resist a good beat
stroll down State Street to shop but don't have a wise and thoughtful friend to talk to

I will remember H when I...

hear Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'"
slice bananas into my cereal
next go to the Getty
play with baby Carly; she adored him and how he spoke Swedish to her
am on a dancefloor with a smoke machine
see or play all the music added in the past six months to my itunes/ipod
think about being 26
next need something fixed in my house/car/computer
hear someone make up hilarious and creative metaphors
go to pinkberry, especially if i get raspberries
am cold but don't admit it and someone is observing and gives me their coat anyway
have lively opinionated discussions about international affairs
want someone to talk with about history
next stand at the end of the pier
remember my old studio
remember this studio someday
think about Santa Barbara someday

And like they've said, among other things, they will think of me when they remember their wonderful year abroad in California, they'll think of me sometimes when they miss sunny Santa Barbara, they'll think of me as their American friend that they were grateful for and want to know for years to come...

I couldn't ask for anything more than that.


Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes.
~Henry David Thoreau

*moments like this

101

The other day a mother of one of my students called me a "go-getter". I almost laughed in her face.

I appreciated the compliment, but it definitely surprised me to be seen as such. A go-getter? Me? Nooooo... Go-getters are those friends that keep getting promotions in their made-for-them industries, the guy we know in town who worked for 12 years to get to the Olympics and finally did last summer, the type of guy I seem to go for as a counterpart to my dreamy, creative, lazy, mellow, and distinctly uncompetitive in the business world self.

At least, that's how I had defined go-getter. And the latter part of that paragraph is how I apparently am stuck seeing myself. I brought this up with a friend and before we talked about what go-getter was, she too said that she saw me as one. Well, I thought... should I expand my definition of myself? Online there are a few different definitions for this term, one of them, "a person whose career progresses rapidly" is certainly not me. But then the other two say "an intensely energetic, enthusiastic person" and "an enterprising person"... at times I could see myself in these ways. I would say that I'm scrappy... I've always known how to find situations that work out for me, like housing, social activities, jobs... I never languish in a void without any of those things or in any prolonged unhappiness. I climb vigorously out of such emptiness. I'm an oldest child and so from that I think comes some bossiness and leadership tendencies. I also work hard at balance, having a good amount of everything healthy and necessary in life. But I've always wished for more self-discipline, more follow-through, more drive, and the ability to get out of bed when the alarm actually goes off... more of what I lack that I can so easily pinpoint in others.

I always maintain that I am distinctly and abnormally self-aware. But I think I am quite aware of certain aspects of myself and not so aware of others. I know I am an INFP . I know I am more social (more E) and more organized (more J) than the average INFP. I am aware of all kinds of other personality and character attributes, positive and negative.

But recently I have learned more... including that by some I could be considered a go getter.

I've also been newly informed that I am a hand-talker. I was thoroughly surprised. Once someone brought it up a few others chimed in, saying, "Yeah! You do this one thing on the table with your nails for emphasis!" and "Oh and when you're telling a story you do this!" I have never thought of myself as an expressive conversationalist but apparently I can be, and have seen photos in the past couple months documenting it.

I've been challenged in new ways in the past few months in general, and am looking forward to seeing how a new way of seeing myself, knowing what I'm capable of that I was either unaware of or afraid of before, helps me move forward not only jobwise but most importantly in shaking every last bit of learning, fun, and love that I can out of my mid-twenties and beyond.

P.S. I realized after my last post that it was number 100. My hundredth blog post! Here's to many more...

You Have a Friend Request

We make up acronyms to remember the layout of the more obscure African states.

She brings me a Pumpkin Blenders so we can get through refining her essay on defending the role of art in helping us understand history.

In our cozy nook at Coffee Bean on Coast Village we lament together on how tedious English grammar rules are while also discussing our sunglasses that we each scored at the Blue Bee sale.

We sit in the den and look up photos to compare past and present Santa Barbara fires and their damage, and since he asks we start talking about the possible link to global warming.

He tells me about the charity he helped start that arranges for clean water to get to villages in third world countries. I can see all of Santa Barbara from his dining room window and we mention how lucky we are to live here.

We sit at her desk and watch videos on Youtube of the Iranian President Ahmedinejad unbelievable discussing his doubt about the Holocaust, of a vintage news broadcast about the Mussolini's execution at the end of WWII, and current political satire shorts.

Clicking through Sparknotes, we review Beowulf and All Quiet on the Western Front. He is honest about just how lost he is on the meaning behind certain plot elements, and we pull up page after page that breaks down various symbols, characters, and explanations. He seems more relaxed by the end of the night, he can face the next day not feeling so lost like he has been.

She tells me about each of her siblings and how they each are gifted in some great way, this one is amazingly intelligent, this one is incredibly athletic and hard-working, the other one is wonderfully artistic. She doesn't know what she has going for her... I know that she fills this gap with partying, she doesn't know that I know that.

We laugh uncontrollably, something got us started and we can't stop... we are both just happy to be distracted even for a moment from linear equations. Before she leaves she shows me a couple tricks in using my new camera.

He gets all A's and has top test scores and his dad insists that his son still needs help prioritizing and getting organized... just because the boy has a messy binder. I shake my head after we talk, and drive my car down their long and opulent driveway flanked by gorgeous trees and fountains.

It's our last meeting and we hug, she promises to text me after the big test... then convinces me that now that I'm not her tutor anymore we can be friends on Facebook. So we are.

*****************************************************

All these moments I've collected over the last couple of months with the fifteen and sixteen year olds that I tutor. There's hardly ever been such hours that are more mentally demanding but more rewarding and energizing in my life. And I get paid. I'm sometimes still in awe of that.

Remember when?

We sat by the harbor on the patio of the open-air restaurant, taking in the warm breeze of the Auckland evening. The sun was taking forever to set, lazily throwing that gold dusk light in every direction. Stephen and I skipped conversation in favor of occasional bites of shrimp cocktail, sips of crisp white wine, and enjoying the live music. The band had a Caribbean flavor to it, kinda jazzy and slow, and they were doing all cover songs. I remember most that they sang U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For..." a soulful yet gentle voice over the steel drums singing, "I believe in kingdom come, then all the colors will bleed into one, bleed into one..."


This one night in Christchurch we accidentally found our way into an Irish pub while looking for a dance club, and then we met these young Scottish businessmen traveling to promote the whiskey brand they work for... one was around our age with a mischievous sparkle in his eye, and told me more than once how I should stay in town til Saturday for the whiskey festival so we could hang out...the live Irish music played on and on, the musicians were not so much performing for any pub customers as they were having a jolly evening entertaining each other with their strokes of the fiddle...


"Hey, where are you from?" the guy behind me on the bus said in an American accent. It was the first time I'd heard such an accent besides our own in many days, and I think he'd heard mine when I spoke to the bus driver. We started chatting, he introduced his friend just getting onto the bus, and I introduced Stephen, then another young American sitting in front of me turned around to join the conversation. We were from California, Oregon, Texas and Hawaii, and all of us were happy to start the 8 hour journey with some cultural peers to chat with. By lunchtime, after hours of bus conversation we were fast friends. We bought some meat pies and salmon quiche and had a picnic looking out over the electric blue lake, so colored because of the minerals the glacier water picks up as it melts and flows its way this direction. After eating and before we had to get back on the bus, we ran toward the water and skipped some rocks just to see the ripples over the odd shade of blue. Hours and hours later once we'd all settled into our Queenstown hostel and showered off the day's journey we reconvened at a Thai food restaurant and drank a toast to what was to be one of the most memorable nights of travel for each of us.


The shoes had seen quite a bit of terrain by now, and felt quite soggy from walking across the wet grass of the rugby field. I took them off, and continued my short hike from the bus stop to this famed St. Claire's beach that was my morning destination for my full day in Dunedin. A grassy sand bank rose in front of me, and once I reached the top I saw stretched out before me in both directions a serene, almost empty, white sand beach... sand dunes steeply leading down to a flat stretch before meeting the waves. It looked just like the pictures, but better. I sunk my feet into the soft cold grains and then jumped down the dunes to the bottom. I set out my towel, but couldn't sit still. There are few things in nature I love more than a bank or dune of sand, and I wanted to play, jump, climb, and sink into them. I did it a few times... and then I sat down for a minute, overcome by the desire to be sharing the experience. Not with just anyone, but with a close friend or family member. I love to be alone, but I really wanted to have this memory with someone. "Remember when we jumped on and slid down the dunes in Dunedin? Wasn't that an amazing day? And then we climbed those rocks nearby, and then got an iced mocha while we watched the surfers?"


The cicadas could not have been humming more loudly. We tramped on and on along the side of the ravine, and I walked behind, following the two short blonde children leading the way. "See that tree? We cut that back to make the path when we moved here!" the boy called back to me. "That's a little bit of waterfall right there, but not a lot, we are going to the big waterfall. Just follow me, I won't fall on this path like I did when I was little," the tiny four year old girl turned to say to me. Once we reached the big waterfall, the one they'd led me through the forest for almost an hour to reach, we sat down on some logs. I laughed as the spray of the water hit my face and the kids pretended to fish for salmon and fry it and serve it to me. We ate their homemade fruit roll-up, split a banana, shared our water, and soaked up the remoteness and beauty of our location, far far away from the grown-ups.

Blue & Green

We weren't sure where we were going. Our best lead was the little Maori boy with the mohawk who'd befriended Stephen in the back of the bus... he was directing us... "not this stop... not this stop... here". Outside the main drag of the little town of Raglan we hopped off the bus and quickly pulled our huge packs out from the storage space between the wheels. We were on a hill looking out to the ocean, and unsure which way was what. We hadn't booked our hostel for this part of the journey, and I was madly thumbing through my guidebook trying to figure out where to go. Should we stay in a hostel in the main part of Raglan or go out to this Solscape hostel our new Austrian friend who was along with us for the ride, Stefan, planned to go to? It was closer to the surf spot but far from anything else. And wherever Stefan's hostel was, we were quite a ways from it, I knew that. I had barely opened the book when Stefan instinctively stuck his thumb out, and literally 1.5 seconds later a truck rumbled to an abrupt stop a few yards past us. I laughed in disbelief, threw my book in my pack and hauled it behind me, dashing over to the car along with Stephen and Stefan. I had read that in Raglan it was easy to hitchhike, but hadn't considered it as an option. One of many times you must toss aside the guidebook and go with the flow. We had gotten ourselves into a bit of adventure, heading for who-knew-where but feeling that the outcome was going to be wonderful. How could it not be, with the sea spread out before us and the sky a perfect blue?

Our driver, Franz, had long tangled curls and dreadlocks with blonde streaks from countless days of New Zealand sunbleaching. He was around our age and his car was full of construction equipment. "Yeah mates, I'll take yeh to this spot, we'll have a look at the waves, just gotta grab my dog." We rambled over the roads, pulled quickly in front of his house to get his dog, and continued on. "It's pretty much the same every day, yeh know, get off work, have a surf, later have a beer, and do the same the next day. Pretty relaxed eh? You'll like Raglan." We'd soon find out this was the vibe and daily ritual of most Raglan residents. Laid-back, super friendly, content to keep a small shop or work in construction or something, and worship the waves.

We pulled up to the spot Franz had mentioned. It was breathtaking. The views were endless and the green of the land and turquoise of the water were piercing. The three of us visitors took it all in, smiling broadly and our excitement growing. Franz deemed the surf to be good and got us going so he could catch some early evening waves.

So then he dropped us off at Solscape. As we pulled up I knew we'd done well to follow Stefan... converted train cars and cabooses sat scattered around a green field, sitting high on the hill with a sweet view of Raglan Bay. This hostel blew my mind. I couldn't stop laughing to myself... this place was ridiculous. Little tables and chairs set up in various spots invited you to come have a drink and watch the view until you fell asleep. The train car set-up of the remote hostel felt like you'd stumbled upon a secret spot and were some of a very few who knew about this little slice of paradise.

And that's really what it was... a couple days of paradise, making new friends from around the globe, playing in the surf, watching the sun rise after the rain, grilling dinner while the sun set... Exactly the adventure we were hoping for.

Hold Tight & Set Free

I sat staring out the window as we rode through the countryside, green hill after green rolling hill dotted with sheep and trees that reminded me of the Oregon landscape. The buzzing cicadas and occasional palm tree told me I was far from there, however. The sky went on forever, robust white clouds entangled and stretching across from east to west. We'd found ourselves on a bus to Raglan, home of the best surf spot in New Zealand, along with a couple dozen schoolchildren who were headed to their homes there for the day from classes in the city. A little voice with a charming Kiwi accent broke through the rest of the young chattering, and I listened in to what the boy was telling the girl sitting next to him...

"I see those floaty things everywhere right now!" I knew right away what he was talking about... those singular starry puffs that float around, looking similar to the head of a dandelion, that I'd never seen so many of until I'd gotten to this country.

"My cousin says that if you can catch one, and hold it real tight, and pray to God, then set it free, your wish will come true."
Now of course I've heard similar things before and of course done them, but hearing this little boy saying it as if it was a brand new idea, something to capture the imagination and carry out the very next chance he got... I couldn't wait to capture my first New Zealand "floaty thing" and set free my own wish.

They fly all over the country; the north island, the south, inland in the mountains and out by the beaches... I've caught most every one that's come my way and followed that boy's instructions.