Shh...

I spent a lot of my childhood trying to find different ways to disappear. My strongest memory is playing in my mom's closet, seated on the wood floor underneath her dresses and my dad's suits, with the sliding door open just enough to let a sliver of light in. I was guaranteed a good couple of hours without any interruption. When I outgrew the closet, I made a little fort in the corner of my room (better light) with a couple of thin blankets, and entertained myself with my books.

Even today, I have a strange attraction to small spaces. I used to study the best in small office spaces-- I could lock myself in a cubicle and write for hours before I realized I should walk around a bit. In high school, I used to sit in the back of my math class, underneath the table, until class was over (I was really bored...). I love unwinding in my car... I can't even count the number of times I've just slept in my car whenever I was stressed out.

At this point, I'm looking for my next little closet.
My brain feels muddled and slow. I'm in a constant state of exhaustion and boredom, leading me to sleep most of my daylight hours away (when I'm not at work, of course).
I get like this when I feel out of balance. I love my friends in LA, but I miss my girlfriends. I miss our summer nights, getting dressed up, and hitting the bars. I miss their support, their love, their light! I love my job, but I love indulging in art and in spontaneity. I miss late-night drives and new LA discoveries. I miss going out with my camera and not feeling like a fraud or self-conscious. I miss design and pretty things.

Life is becoming rhythmic and while I am thankful for the knowledge that I am secure in my life and future, I am also fearful of the complacency this can bring.


I need a wake-up call.