9.20.19

Self-Potrait, Practicing

I’m up before the sunrise. It’s calm and quiet and I can hear the symphony of crickets outside my window. Why don’t I do this more often?

The date is 9.20.19.  I have a full day today but I wanted to sneak in some meditation time before the storm. I intend to seize today and somehow squeeze in a workout before work, a 20 minute practice with my guitar, some vocal  exercises and singing on my commute to work, a work shift at the Art Museum, and lastly extend my love to my friends which I have not seen in a while and miss, in the evening. Maybe hopefully sing? If the opportunity arises. I’m awaiting my next stage, but I have work to do. I have confidence to learn, and practice to achieve. But easy does it, and patience is key. My stage will come, I can feel it.

Life is a balance between the quiet meditation of your person and inner self, and the gift of sharing my self with those I love. I want to be more loving, more giving, but in turn I need to love myself to be able to give those I love the most of me. So, this to me is an act of self-love. And I have every  intention to spill my heart to those deserving of its honey.

Ps. Today my new guitar arrives! Finally, my very own Cordoba guitar.

 

with love and admiration. Always and truly yours,

 

bluebird

Currently Hibernating…

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I am currently hibernating in the most loudest cities there is, city of Los Angeles, but it can be done.  I just ignore the sirens, the lights and the late party life. I am taking this time to reflect, and get better- lick my wounds. I’ll be back soon my loves.

what luxury to be here!

 

my best,

 

bonnie bluebird

 

 

 

I want to Fly

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I raise my voice to the heavens,

Bring down your rope of hope,

send down your latter to climb,

I want to dream,

I want to fly.

This has been my current dilemma, my stop sign. And I have been standing there, at a crossroads, having to decide, this way to walk, this way to fly.

I choose to fly. Hopefully, I will be writing much more these days.

 

Always,

your bluebird

What is the highlight of your day?

I think my heart will always be on the road… Today,  my traveling heart was touched and the travel bug in me was woken up.

I try to ask myself this question daily… and I challenge to ask yourself the same…What was the highlight of your day? The thing that stood out the most and made the most impression.

It can be any minute detail like the hummingbird stoping to pose for you, or an interaction you had with a stranger, the smell of your favorite blossom, or even the purple avenue of blossoms on your early morning commute to work this Spring. It can be a smile, a laugh, anything– a song you heard, a message you received, anything that makes your heart whole even if it is a second.

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Today, my highlight was speaking Spanish to an Argentinean couple that came in to purchase a cup of coffee. I instantly felt at ease. Travelers. I feel most at ease with travelers. Adventurers. Dreamers…

They could barely say a word in English, and I knowing the Spanish language switched my gears and helped them in Spanish. I noticed their Spanish had a particular dialect, I figured it was from Spain but they quickly corrected me and said they where from Argentina. I pressed my hands to my chest, and said,” Ah, Argentina, he querido ir a Argentina,” or “Oh, Argentina, I’ve been wanting to go to Argentina.” I commented how so many poets, writers, musicians, and artist come from Argentina. And they went on to comment on Latino America, and their strong sense of hospitality and amiable nature. I agreed. I said, I admired it and crave it.

I told them it is my dream to see it one day, and they offered me their home, a place to stay. “Ya cuando quieras, nos vienes a visitar,” or “When you want, come and visit us.”  And we left our exchange at that… a kind of so long, I’ll be seeing you.

Maybe I’ll open up a cafe there one day and live there for a couple years. I dream of days like this, and after today, I feel a sense that it can and might come true. Todo es posible, hasta lo que parece ser imposible… or in other words, all is possible, even all that what seems to be impossible.

 

Cheers!

 

from a traveler at heart,

 

bluebird.

Just do it

For some reason or another, I have always wanted to run away. I guess, I felt trapped. Trapped to this life. I don’t know, I wanted so much more out of life. I wanted adventure, travel, freedom, truth, peace, happiness. And yet, when I had  the opportunity, when the butterfly decided to land on my finger, I did not taken hold of it. I feared it and ran away instead.

I have been so blissfully happy in the Honduran mountain top where I picked coffee and played music and sang songs to the skies, the rivers, and waterfalls and I could have stayed, but I didn’t… why did I come back?

I have been in an airport on the brink of staying in Mexico permanently and making a living there, and I did not do it. I returned to the responsibilities of school, and work and commitments our society has imposed on me. Why did I run from this door that opened itself to me?

I have always wanted to travel freely, without an agenda or plan, just with the compass of intuition pointing arrows to my path. I’ve met only a couple of people like this in my life. Among them was Pasqual, “the french traveler.”

He was a traveling musician and carried around a saxophone with him. He made a few dollars here and there as street performer, and made it all the way to California from France. He worked on a boat, on many farms,  hitched rides, and had various living arrangements, but most importantly he wore his heart on his sleeve. His eyes shown a vulnerable humility of a child I can’t begin to describe. I only knew him for an evening, the very evening I ran away to live in San Luis Obispo but I felt as if I knew him my whole life. I know it sounds strange.

I asked him how he is so free, and fearless. I asked him what made him do it… what made him leave his home and family. And his answers were pure, simple, and clear. He was like a version of my own fearless self. He was the person I aspire to be. His dream was to reach Brazil. And last I heard, he did. I only have his memory with me, and his collection of French music he shared with me that evening.

However, that night, we did not touch, nor kiss, but I could say I loved him. It was love. In fact, I distinctly remember him saying he loved me. But how could it be? And how could it be that I also somehow loved him too? As lovers, to love is the easiest thing to do. You would think, I’d of gone traveling with him but when he asked me to join him, I feared and turned away.

To think of it now, I beat myself up. Everything I desired at that point in time with my life, had fallen on my lap. Pasqual was like a shooting star that fell from the heavens and landed on my step and I did not run away with him…. why?

I feared. I feared and to this day Pasqual is only a dream, like a pegasus in the sky.

I’m not sure If another door will open, or another shooting star will fall for me, nor do I know if another butterfly would land on my finger, but If I am granted another chance, by God, I have got to just do it!

This life is precious and only given to us once why not live it as I have always longed to live it. At least, do it for me… if a chance like this ever comes your way… please, please take it. Jump, don’t run, don’t fear.

Just do it.

 

yours truly,

 

bluebird

 

 

To Happiness

Hi.

It’s been a while and I felt like writing. Whenever I need help discerning things, I write. It is my therapy, my lifeboat from a sea of emotions. This pen and I, we will always be. I have so much to voice about and this pen and I,  have a long journey ahead of us with a long tail of our past we are learning to haul around and live with. This pen will be the only true relationship I will have with me my whole life through. However long or short. It is the extension of my voice and an extension of me. The best me I can be and I want to be the best me I can be.

As of late, I  have been trying to enjoy my life. You know… live it up, seize the day, suck in all the juice of the day. And I’ll tell you, lately I have.

I am singing like a song bird. I am using my voice. I am raising my own plants. Speaking up like never before and enjoying my solitude. I love being a barista and making coffee. I love Los Angeles, the sun, my family, my people. I couldn’t ask for more. So yeah, its been too nice to be blue or cloudy lately.  I almost feel like a transformation of self… Almost like a metamorphoses of sorts. I feel myself transforming. Is that strange?

I think I have found and ending to my book… You see, I only write and have only written because I have been in pain, in sorrow. But you see why be in a lifeboat when I can swim in the sea? why walk when I can fly? why write, when I can sing? why live in a cacoon when I can be a butterfly with wings?

My voice is my instrument. It would be foolish of me to waste it. Even if it means failing. I know how to loose. I’ve lost so much already.  So I’d rather loose for something I am passionate about than to loose to something I don’t care for. This life is to be lived, to enjoy.  And how they say, “Tenemos que chupar el jugo del dia,” or “We need to suck the juice of the day, ” like the honeybee or the hummingbird.

So even if it means slaving away and living humbly. Making a living as a barista counting pennies and stretching money,  If I am happy, that is all that matters. The best adventures I have had been when I was penniless.

So let’s do it! let’s be happy. Here is to happiness and to our pursuits.

Cheers!

 

yours truly,

 

bluebird

 

 

 

Dream Journal

 

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I  have had such strange dreams lately. I dreamt that the garage was overflowing with water and the pressure of the water broke the seal of the garage door, and out came colorful fish, like a cracked fish tank about to break and release. I don’t know somehow this made sense.

Then I dreamt that my siblings and I were backing out of the drenched garage and out the driveway; and there they were, about 5 flopping colorful fish, twitching under our orange and lemon trees, trying to breathe. Strange, huh? I can’t help but feel that it means something.

I always have had very lucid dreams. I can fly in dreams and I have recently come to know that if I am terrified in a dream I can somehow escape and fly away. It’s rather cool, to be honest.

I have had very beautiful dreams of flying off of one red balloon. Others where I almost levitate and float, others where I run really fast and jump into the sky, but my favorite has been the one where I fly off on a paper box canoe over pyramids, and clouds, and into the crafty sun and sky, made out of pipe cleaners for rays, felt for sky, cotton balls for clouds, and beads for the sun.That dream was so surreal. I still can picture it.

I know why I dreamt that a long time ago. It was my subconscious telling me that I wanted to explore, learn, experience. Shortly after that dream I moved away to San Luis Obispo.

This dream however was just as impactful. Strange, but impactful. It is something to acknowledge. Especially after seeing a hawk land under the orange and lemon trees where the fish were, in real life, the same day. It flew in, right in front of the orange and lemon trees, staring at me, as big as it was, with  a wing span of a medium-sized dog, and  its prey, a pigeon, dead under its claws. It’s all so strange…

It’s a riddle I can’t solve.

yours truly,

bluebird