Ode To The Boys

Aside from my husband, there have only been two men in my life that have truly inspired me creatively. In an indirect nudge that literally got me off my ass and truth be told, I don’t even know either of them personally. 

One of the two men, I have actually met before. The other I will eventually meet as well. I’m throwing that into the universe right now and I’m telling you, it will happen. Randomly. Just like it did with the other guy. 

Who are these infamous men? Well, I’ll tell ya....just be patient....because....they both come with backstories attached and without the story, the appreciation wouldn’t make much sense. It would just sound creepy. 

In 2010, I fell into a horrible depression. I’m not an unhappy person by any means....actually....I’m quite cheerful. I also stay as positive as I can despite any struggle that might be thrown my way and there have been quite a few....but 2010 was different and 2011 even harder still. 

The details go a little something like this: my long standing job went under and I couldn’t find work. I was in and then finally out of a toxic relationship. I barely slept a wink. 31 was fast approaching and I had nothing! No job or prospects of a job. I had no relationship, no kids, and no money. I felt utterly helpless and my future felt bleak. I felt like a giant disappointment to everyone around me, including myself. 

Those were, to date, the hardest years of my life. They were also my strongest. It was a time when my head and heart were at constant war with one another. One pitted against the other when all I wanted was for them to work in tandem. 

Enter the climb back up....

It took counseling, finally finding a job working with kids and being single for a long, long time to finally reclaim and redefine who I was and what I wanted out of life. 

It took peeling back the layers. 

It took my head being lifted by an outside source. Someone I didn’t know and sure as hell didn’t know me. 

Those times are now my catalyst for other horrible moments life puts on my path. A comparison to any and all crap years. 

2016/2017 ran a close second. Could honestly tie...I just wasn’t as depressed. Angry, yes! But not depressed. 

The only blessing that came out of 2010/2011...was finding myself again. I found her in a very dark hole, sitting next to the devil, bawling her eyes out...ready to give up but longing to be saved and I saved her. I stopped her from destroying herself and her future. 

2017....I got engaged and saw a bear. 

Yup those were the highlights of the otherwise ‘worst years’ of my life and I’m grateful for every single one of them. 

One night in 2011 while trying to relax (which...let’s be honest...is a damn near impossible feat when everything around you seems to be crashing down) I stumbled upon a video of an actor I always liked. 

His name was Norman Reedus. For those of you who don’t know this person, he plays Daryl Dixon on The Walking Dead. He’s played other roles but for all intents and purposes this is one that I feel most will recognize. 

The video was an interview and he was describing his life prior to getting into acting. It wasn’t all glitz and glam. He started with nothing and even when he had something, it was almost taken away. 

He was involved in a horrific car accident a few years prior to his big break. 

His rehabilitation journey was an arduous one. Much like my crawl back up from the bottomless pit I was trapped in. Before the interview, I just liked his film choices but he pulled me in with his passion and drive. I kinda got hooked. Most importantly though, he made me realize I needed to chill the fuck out when it came to worrying about where I was and where I was going. These were two completely different entities. Equally important but not what defined me...they were just a part of my story. 

Those darker days were consumed by tiny glimmers of hope because of him. Remember, I had no money and what I did have went to bills and surviving. My entertainment came from my laptop or the library or a friends’ patio. 

I was escaping my reality for a little while and taking heed in the messages coming my way. 

The messages: 

-Stop walking with your head down. Rise up, lady! 

-So what if you are about to be 31...look at this guy...he’s almost 40 and just now reaping the benefits of a never give up tale. 

-Get creative. You are creative. Show your sparkle once more. 

I just wanted to feel my worth again and in many ways, it was Norman that helped with this painful move. 

Oh, how it hurt. 

You see, when your head hangs so low for so long, rising it is heavy and treacherous process. 

I found out not only was he a phenomenal actor but a wonderful photographer too. I was in awe of his photos. They were mysterious and strange but beautiful. His will to keep going after his accident, became my motto. Maybe he had to postpone acting but he was doing something else to keep his creative mojo going. He was snapping photos. He was editing odd videos. He was keeping himself busy while building himself back up. No matter what...and if this guy kept going, I had to keep moving too. I mean...the guy almost died and look at him now. Look how far he’s come! 

For years, I told everyone that one day I would meet him and I would thank him for his unintentional motivation. Some folks thought I was nuts to think I would ever meet him and I can’t lie, I thought I was crazy too. No way, no how. We are on two completely different planes of existence...but I knew deep down inside, it would happen. I would meet this gigantic influence in my life. 

Meeting Norman...

In 2013, I did just that. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to actually say ‘thank you’ and tell him my story and its connection to his. I was star struck, at a loss for words and the up and down, ‘I’m checking you out and like what I see’ kinda took me aback for a minute. So I didn’t say shit. Not a peep. Just some nervous laughter when he leaned in close to shelter his eyes from all the cameras. 

*For the record...I do not think he was hitting on me. I just know that ‘dude move’ and I appreciate the gesture...and I’ll rave about it until I die. Let me have this. 

He was the guest speaker at a Canon event I was working. I was a sweaty, disheveled mess, in my opinion, but that’s what happens when you’re running around working while everyone else is having a grand ole time. 

My bosses who organized and ran the event knew the backstory when it came to my admiration for him and refused to let the event end without at least an introduction or picture. 

Sweaty, disheveled mess or not? I was saying hello, regardless. 

I wanted to tell him all these things: thanks for replying to a tweet...at a time...when I needed the laugh. Thanks for giving me creative inspiration...at a time...when I was just trying to muster up the courage to live. Thanks for coming into my world when I needed a distraction and redirection. Thanks for being you. I didn’t though...and that’s why I am doing it here now. 

I went home from that trip back to life as usual. Ready to dive into my next project. I was directing a live production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. An event that a month later was filled to capacity.  At the end, I was brought up on stage and applauded for putting it all together. I just made it happen-my actors and actresses did most of the work. Without them, it would have just been a free movie night. It’s now a regular production in my old stomping grounds. A large crowd pleasing one at that. I’m a proud mama bear! 

Shortly thereafter I made a vision board. Still on a high from being on the up an up, I left no stone unturned...all the goals and desires staring me right in the face so I could seen them, visualize them, never forget them but most importantly...make that shit happen!!! Except one thing was missing-a photo of Norman. Originally I wasn’t going to put a pic of him up there but my roommate urged me to do otherwise. Her reasoning: he came into my life when I needed a push, he was the starting point of my Phoenix Rising. He and that weird fated meeting had more meaning than just a chance encounter with a famous person. It stood for everything. 

Immediately after our talk, I placed a photo of Norman dead in the center. It was my reminder that whatever I envisioned for myself would most definitely come true. I just had to be patient and keep a steady pace. Keep going and never give up on my aspirations. 

The vision board included: financial stability, a career I loved, a healthy and harmonious relationship, and my creative side shining as bright as bright could be. 

At the end of 2013, I met my soon-to-be husband. I wasn’t even thinking about a relationship but as they say, “that shit happens when you least expect it.”

Three months later, I’m moving out west with my new guy. Which had so many up in arms. I get it...three months isn’t that long but the moment we met, we both knew that this was the right choice. This was going to be OUR next chapter.

We have now been together six years and married for two. 

Our first few years weren’t easy by any means but we were determined to build our dreams side-by-side. We were on this new adventure and I was open to all the possibilities before me.

I was also completely terrified of all those possibilities. 

What if we failed? 

We didn’t get rid of most of our possessions and move cross country (where we know no one) to be scared and/or fail....but we did fail. Miserably. And it was excruciating. 

I call 2014 through 2016,  “The Lesson and Building Years” because there were plenty of lessons and plenty of building and many a time...both of them occurring simultaneously. 

We worked so hard only to have everything fall apart before our very eyes. The most tragic part about our crash and burn session...it had nothing to do with us but everything to do with our environment. 

We were surrounded by greed, self-indulgence, self-entitlement, jealousy, pettiness, and malicious intentions. Our asses were tossed into a raging river without a life preserver. For no other reason except straight up douchebagery. But you know what? I grew up on the water and I know how to swim. 

We both know how to swim. 

That bridge had to be set on fire though and I know that now. Those weren’t my people. Those weren’t my husband’s people but I can say this-with every fiber of my being-no one can ever say we weren’t decent people, no one can ever say we weren’t hard working and loyal. Most importantly, they can never say we were the ones holding the matches. 

Regardless, I had to go back into hiding. My husband same thing. We were protecting ourselves and our life. Essentially, this was the only way to rid ourselves from the toxicity. To be invisible to it. To distance ourselves so far from it that we were completely removed from it. 

I tell you what 2016/2017 taught me a lot about daggers and how they are thrown. Those were messy and fragile times and I’m almost positive learning the value of strength in 2010 was my precursor for this exact future test.

Sometimes though everything is meant to blow up before your very eyes. It’s the natural order of things. Yes, the smoke will stick around for a bit. You’ll inhale it and it will smell and taste awful. You’ll be covered in soot and ash and battle scars...but once you’re out and all recovered from the bomb that went off, you become a fortress and that fortress is formidable. 

Don’t get me wrong, I embrace my introverted side. Alone time allows for growth, reflection, introspection and wisdom. I’m also a Taurus and it’s part of our astrological make up. Our souls need to shut down and turn off periodically. 

However, there is one GIANT difference! Force isn’t an independent choice and Taurus’s resent being forced to do anything. I resent being forced to do anything. I wanna run around stampeding the shit out of my life. Taking all the arrows tossed in my direction and snapping them off like it’s no big deal. Besides, I’ve already been in said silent hole already but okay...I will play this dumb game again, if I have to. 

Here’s the thing....we are full to the brim of people who can’t stand to see others shine and I have zero clue what the hell this is all about? For the love of God, y’all. Be nice! If all you can squeeze out are some awful words meant to demean and criticize then ‘SHUT YOUR MOUTH’....nobody has time for it. Let people sparkle and brag and be happy! It’s a cruel world out here and we don’t need anymore negativity added to it. 

Ya catch my drift? 

2018 and 2019 are dubbed, “The Years of Light” because we finally saw it...at the end of an extremely long tunnel...and it was a glorious luminous light. 

I sing, I dance, I write, I take pictures. I travel. I read. I’m smart and I’m courageous. I live a happy life. I live creatively doing creative things. I’m an earth bound spiritualist *clears throat* pagan and I shouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed or find excuses to celebrate all these things that make me who I am. I should be out there among the living. Taking chances, disregarding the naysayers and my own personal fears, chasing my passions and connecting them to a map of myself. 

Ivar, You Maniacal Bastard...

Enter this last December and wrapping up a year full of travel: Jamaica, The PNW, Europe and Iceland. Enter the final moment I said ‘fuck this hiding shit.’ 

Enter man number three: the guy who finally set all this into motion. The battle I had been in was over. The past was the past and 2020 was right around the corner. 2019 was so good to me. So, so good and I want this year to be exactly the same. 

I traveled far and wide in 2019 and every place I went,  I brought my camera with me. Every new location brought on a flood of thoughts. My phone’s notepad documenting every word. I collected more and more material for future artistic goals. I compiled more and more lists of things I wanted to get done.

Every adventure bringing more and more universal confirmations that, “Yes, I could find a spot in this creative world.” 

Europe was the last place, Iceland was the last stop. 

On our flight home, I had six hours to kill and although we were chasing the sun, most people were trying to sleep. I was also sitting next to a new mama and her newborn so I didn’t want to disturb them with a reading light...although I would have totally opted to read..as I had just purchased a book on Icelandic folklore right before boarding my plane. No. Instead I chose the T.V. Which I am so happy that I did! I needed to see and hear what was coming at me full force. 

Leaving a place where it was Vikings everything, I was still in full Icelandic Viking mode and I found the show Vikings. Six episodes...about an hour long. Perfect. Imma ‘bout to go H.A.M on this here series. Talk about right time and right place to binge on a show.

The six episodes were a few seasons in. I know, why start that far into any show? But like I said, what else did I have to do? Where else did I have to go? 

First five minutes: a guy with gorgeous, soulful blue eyes sits on a stoop, holding back tears. He looks up to a whole barrage of other amazingly good looking men and they’re all staring back at him. 

Kudos to you, show. You know how to captivate an audience. You did this on purpose, didn’t you? 

I learned the guy I just gasped for air at was the character Ivar the Boneless. I had no idea who played him or what his story was all about. 

Ten minutes later-ole blue eyes slithers away from a group of guys seemingly going their own separate ways. 

“What is this? Who is this? And next time I exit a room, I’m trying this maneuver. Peace out, bitches.” 

Two episodes in I’m hitting my husband telling him he needs to watch this show! This guy is a maniac! These people are badasses! And I want to go back to Iceland then back to Europe and onward to Norway, Sweden and Denmark and end up in Germany, my native country. Turn this damn plane around! Now!!!! 

I get off the plane (reluctantly) in the states and I can’t shut up about my last six hours of viewing pleasure. To be fair, the hubs has his rants too...however, they usually involve gaming or cars but we have binged on Stranger Things before... so....he gets it. 

Hey Ivar...I could’ve used your momentum back in 2016/2017. Then again maybe not? Ha. Meeting Ivar mixed with my anger could have been disastrous. I probably didn’t need more fuel to an already existing epic blaze. Yes, I wanted to take names and kick ass accordingly but that would come later...in a more diplomatic, cunning fashion. God bless you punching bag. You served your purpose before you were broken. I still appreciate you though, Bone Diddy. 

Years ago. A Short Story About the History Channel and Why I Never Watched The Channel....

Friend: Now that it’s December 22, 2012 what do you think the History Channel will talk about? 

Me: I think they’ll probably go back Aliens or Hitler. 

*turns T.V. on and switches station to the History Channel. 

History Channel: “Hitler was.....” 

Back to Ivar, Now Meet Alex. 

Because I started so late in the game, I continued on that path. I worked my way backwards....there’s a method to my madness. I promise. It’s a little kooky but always calculated. I assure you. Most would have started from the beginning but I couldn’t leave ‘blue eyes’ hanging. Not to mention, I was relating to everything that powerhouse lunatic was putting out. 

Ivar the Boneless captivated me. I wanted to hate him but I couldn’t. I felt empathy. According to the show, the man was rejected by his father and by society. He was physically disabled and mocked every time he turned around. He was often misjudged and ridiculed. He was trying to protect his spirituality. Avenge both parents deaths and prove himself worthy? All the while, still searching and hoping for some sliver of loyalty and acceptance in a place where there seemed to be absolutely none. His rejection ultimately becoming the driving force for his actions. His love fierce and complex but never wavering. Not once did the character back out on his word or stick a dagger in the back of someone he loved. Okay...maybe he threw a couple daggers back but there were reasons....it just wasn’t because he felt like being an asshole that day. The only people he fought were his tormentors and he usually won....and anytime he was betrayed by someone he thought was in his corner, it broke his heart a little more...inevitability causing it to harden. I got all of that. I got this fucking character.

Now, I’m not saying Ivar isn’t a few buckles shy of a straight jacket but I understand the madness. 

First and foremost if someone hurts my parents, I’m coming after them with a vengeance. We ain’t standing side by side discussing the ins and outs of forgiving and forgetting. Let the head bashing commence. Your ass is mine! 

Secondly, I’m not physically handicapped but I have been mocked my entire life by at least one jerk that I know for at least one weakness that they know I have. I have been told I can’t do something because of this or that. I have been told I wasn’t good enough. I have often been misjudged and I have had to rise above it all! Which can often times be misconstrued as over confident or egotistical. I have been stabbed in the back by people I loved but still refuse to not believe that there are loyal souls still left out there. 

For just a second, I want an ounce of Ivar’s bravery. I’d throw those metaphorical axes so hard. Like I throw actual darts. Bullseye! One-by-one. One-after-the-other. 

“Take that you son-of-a-bitch. Say something now! Say. Something. Now. You can’t kill me. Don’t You know who I am!” 

And the whole, BE RUTHLESS mantra. Why the hell not...because for so long...I haven’t been. I’ve been hiding behind insecurities and exactly for what reason? I wrote about this in my last post. I write about this subject a lot. Why limit yourself? Others are doing that enough for you...so why do it to yourself. Why not charge the world like you own the place. 

Why feel so low that you force yourself to stay put and not believe in your abilities? 

Why let a weaknesses define you? 

The guy who plays Ivar is Alex Andersen and damnn if he doesn’t do a fine job in this show. Low and behold, he too is a photographer or aspiring to be one.

Norman meet Alex. Alex meet Norman. 

And just as captivating as his character is, his photography got me too. And as absurd as it sounds, the guy was the one who gave me the courage to become active on all social media platforms. To get my words and my pictures out there. His work made me long for my camera and producing photos and freeing all the words that have up to now been stifled. He was the one who lit the fire under my ass! 

Solid work, man. Solid work. 

I’d be saying the same thing if I saw these photos in a gallery and had no inclination who he was prior. We have the same eye! I’m not sure if he writes and I don’t really care if he does or doesn’t but something clicked...and I don’t know if it was the show, his acting skills, his photos or his personality but whatever it was...it reawakened a hibernating hope. 

The mixture of my year of travel which included a visit back to my homeland and ended in land of Fire and Ice was kismet.

My husband’s gift of a camera and his faithful allegiance and support for my creative road with writing, a godsend. 

Norman and Alex-the motivation. 

All these signs pointing to a direction that I was finally taking notice to. Years apart but messages equally needed and received at all the right moments. 

Message received loud and clear, boys. Loud and Clear. I thank you much. 

I have thus far lived an adventurous life. It deserves to finally be documented and no longer ashamed of, excused or hidden. I have seen and done many things. Hate me or love me, I’m not going anywhere. It’s time to follow passions. It’s time to be alive. 

And, just like I am humbled by anyone who has ever gone out of their way to compliment my creative efforts....I hope this blog post makes its way to Norman and Alex and that they too are humbled by what they have unknowingly done. 

Thanks you two...from the bottom of my heart. I can’t express just how much gratitude I have for you both. Thanks for breathing new life into me. Thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for the motivation Thanks for the inspiration. 

This is just the beginning. There’s more of me yet and I’m so excited to be where I always belonged.