A Fresh Start

2010 is just around the corner, and I'm really looking forward to the new year. I'm so ready to begin anew. Isn't that just a bit magical - the fact that Jan. 1 brings with it 12 fresh months of possibility - 12 months of clean slate. Past sins and transgressions and mistakes - all wiped clean in the advent of the new year. Tabula rasa.

2009 has been a good year, don't get me wrong. I learned a lot this year...a lot about myself, a lot about the world, and I've carved a place for myself here in New York City. Brooklyn is home to me in a way that Phoenix never was. Yet I still find myself unable to truly settle...if I so wished, I could easily pack my belongings in one solid suitcase and move out of the country at the flick of an eyelash. There's a certain appeal to that idea; simply vanishing, beginning anew in some strange locale. Yet there's something odd about it too, and I wonder if it's a sign that I'm meant to be elsewhere.

I think I am. But New York will be in my blood for a long time, and I don't see myself leaving very soon. Then again, I never "saw" myself moving here, either. It's impossible to predict the future, I've learned, as much as I've attempted to steer against the current of time, paddling frantically in that moment's desired direction. I must learn to let go, to spread my arms and float...to simply be. God, the current, time, fate...whatever you wish to call it...it will take me where I'm meant to go.

There's a certain liberation in that thought. The light looks a bit brighter when you realize that there is no such thing as coincidence. Our encounters, our travels and insights, all of them exist to teach us.

But ah, New York...a city I would have never dreamed myself living in, yet here I am, and I love it with all my heart. Possibility dwells here in droves, and all it takes is a foot out the door to find it. Yes, there are times when I want to attack the slow, wandering tourists in Times Square, but for the most part, I am in love with this place - a wonderful, deep and potent sort of love. New York has been good to me.

And yet...

Last night, I experienced an epiphany. Let me share.

My friend Kat gifted me with a journal for Christmas, which was incredibly sweet of her, knowing as she does how much I love to write and doodle. There were a few years there (mostly in high school), where all I did was write. I would lose myself in the written word for hours on end, shunning the typical high school pursuits (i.e. drinking and partying) for solitude - just me and my antiquated computer. If it wasn't the computer, it was a sketchpad, where I drew all manner of characters and scenes and random images that just popped into my head, unformed and cloudy, just waiting to take shape beneath my pencil.

I was creative.

Writing became something of an obsession - partly because I wished to escape the reality of my life. A sort of simple therapy, if you will - a hell of a lot more efficient than speaking my mind to a stranger with a Ph.D. If I wasn't in school, you could easily find me holed up in my room, sitting cross-legged on the bed in an oversize sweatshirt, just tapping away on that old computer. At age 16, there was nothing more I wanted.

College changed that. Suddenly, I had a life outside of school and home - and it was fun. I came out of my shell, so to speak, and began to be more extraverted. I've always been an outgoing, liberal-minded person, but I am slow to warm to people. You had to work for my friendship. In high school, it was partly due to arrogance that I kept to myself - I thought I was smarter, more accomplished and ambitious than my classmates. But in college, that barrier no longer existed.

Over time, my friendship was a guarantee upon meeting - I naturally give people the benefit of the doubt until I'm proven wrong. In short, I'm a trusting person. I like to be liked - and I'm not sure if this is a gracious gift or a fatal flaw.

Since those high school years, my creativity has slowly drained away from me. Writing has become a chore, and yet I'm trapped with these persistent thoughts, banging away at my skull and screaming to be released into words. This untapped creativity has been driving me mad...inexorably, inch by inch, moment by moment, I am dying by degrees.

I sleep too late. I eat horribly. I do not take care of myself. I look at myself and see dark circles beneath my eyes. New York has been good to me, but it's also running me ragged, and I cannot live in this fashion any longer. There are too many people around me who have been made old by this city...people who exist in a state of suspended adolescence, fueled by cocaine and alcohol and God knows what else, unable to function without attending some sort of party or social gathering. There is no depth to them, no drive, no direction...nothing. They are shells.

I find myself being drawn into this midnight circle, and for the first time, I am choosing to stop it.

This is a new year. It's time to shed the toxic old skins of 2009. It's time to start writing again, time to carry a sketchpad with me wherever I go, time to capture those thoughts and ideas and emotions once more, shining like fireflies in my waking mind.

I'm beginning now.

Some Blue December

Ahhh, snow!

Who doesn't love snow? And no, I'm not talking about the two-day-old slushy, sludgy stuff that accumulates in giant piles on the sides of the road, rife with bits of debris and black chunks and spotted with dog piss.

I speak of that lovely first night, where the snow begins swirling down from the heavens and coats the city in a sparkling, untouched blanket of white. This happened to Brooklyn on Saturday night, and what a night it was.

We might have gotten about a foot of snow in some places. I'd never seen such a snowfall in New York before, and I'm prepared to admit how woefully ill-equipped I am for it. I own one pair of "snow boots" - I use the term loosely, because these boots are six-year-old Uggs. They're hideous. So I don't mind getting them covered in salt stains and mud. Also, they're not very warm and tend to get wet pretty easily, but we'll overlook these little flaws.

I'm doing a bit better in the coat department since last January, thanks in part to Brooklyn Industries, which makes very warm and serviceable coats. So, armed with a pair of warm mittens and well-padded in one of these calf-length coats, I headed out into the blizzard with my good friends.

I call it a blizzard with zero hesitation. Snow whipped down at us from all directions, making it impossible to see much more than white static. Of course, we directed our slippery steps toward the bar - surely some sort of whiskey or liquor drink could lend comfort to our shivering bodies.

Lo and behold, we all eventually found our beer jackets at a little dive bar called Matchless. We trooped back into the maelstrom around 3:00 am, giddily hopping about in the snow like little kids (which involves pitching oneself headfirst into giant drifts, chucking snowballs at any and all moving targets, and falling down in the middle of the street laughing because your friend Gary decided to purchase a watermelon and a coconut for God knows what reason).

I would love to post a picture of the snowfall, but the next day found the aforementioned gray slush clogging the streets. None of the magic of the previous night existed; the snow had already begun to melt.

Sigh.

Yet it's only December, and there's sure to be more snow in store for us this winter. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

The Beginning of the End

It's nearly the end of 2009, and here I am beginning another blog.

I go through blogs like candy. Seriously.

But let's not talk about the past. I'd rather start afresh, and see where this takes me. I'm attempting to start afresh with a lot of things in my life, so why not document the experience in a blog?

And I should probably preface by stating my unequivocal love for the ridiculously magical city in which I live. Almost one year ago, I arrived in arguably one of the greatest cities in the world, carrying little else but a suitcase and my hopes. Like most New York stories, my beginning was inauspicious and a bit rough 'round the edges. I'd never been to New York before (I'd passed it on my way from Boston to North Carolina, but that meager experience hardly qualifies). My two best friends in the entire world, Meredith and Delinda, picked me up somewhere in New Jersey, loaded me into their car, and together, we drove into Brooklyn, where I've made a home for myself not once...not twice...but three times since January 2009.

My first home was a literal closet in Midwood, where I lived with Mere and Dee until I found my feet. This took some time - one month, to be exact. I could write for days about the experiences contained within that single month, but instead, I'll only tease you with snippets: a queen-size blow-up mattress stuffed into a single bare room, frantic dashes to DiFara's for some of the best pizza I've ever had the good fortune to taste, late-night glasses of wine and random outbursts of dancing, nervous flutterings in my stomach as I navigated the subway at Avenue M, my first Nathan's hot dog at Coney Island, and above all, my first sight of Manhattan as I emerged from the tunnel on the Q train...soaring in front of me like some terribly beautiful, glittering giant, the light of a winter sunset gilding the steel buildings in a wash of gold and scarlet.

I cannot fully express the way my heart lifted when I saw this.

That one month opened a vast amount of doors for me; suddenly I was being paid to do something I love, my friends surrounded me...everything disappeared into a happy nimbus of parties, drinking, working, and laughing. Lots of laughing.

Just writing this makes me happy.

As it is, I plan on recounting many of these stories in my writings...and telling new stories as well. There's so much possibility here for a young person, so many things to do and people to meet, new food to taste, new sights to see. I want to explore it all.

I am 24...I came to the city at age 23, on January 9th. I hope to find this blog as a refuge from my other writings, a place to document the various happenings in my life. I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I will.