So Saturday evening brought the end of three weeks of traveling.
From DC to Long Beach, San Francisco to Cherry Grove Beach in South Carolina.
Sun, sand, flowers in my hair and the sweet smell of hash on Hippie Hill.
My heart is happy, limbs sore, and memories to forever hold.
Within moments of stepping off the plane, I knew I was going to be hot. The reality of how hot it can get in Phoenix though…
My singular reason for visiting was to witness the spectacular exhibit of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera.
Also, the chance to stay in a shipping container which has no windows.
One thing Phoenix does not lack is beauty especially when you venture out into the desert.
Colors so vibrant and sand you want to run through, yet don’t want to end up burning the s*** off the bottom of your feet.
My first morning, I trekked to the Heard Museum in already 100 degree heat.
Heat gulping water like it’s air you do not realize how hot you are silly are because sweat evaporates almost immediately.
A sweaty mess by the time I arrived meant nothing to me. I was fully prepared to spend the whole day in awe.
The GPS on my phone though was overheating and within hours I needed to retreat back to the Airbnb for the charger I had left behind.
What can one say when staring directly into the eyes of their hero?
The Majestic Beauty Frida Kahlo portrays in each piece of hers this dark and raw, painful and true.
Tomorrow I leave for Phoenix, Arizona to see the Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera at the Heard Museum.
One of her pieces Self Portrait with Monkeys and Diego on My Mind are part of the exhibit.
Each time I see her work, I am just in wonder.
Phoenix was the only North American stop for this world tour.
There are some other exciting surprises awaiting me. For instance, I am staying in a shipping container at an Airbnb that has been praised for “eccentrics” and a must see for the eclectic vibe.
A glimpse of what is to come. Notice there are no windows… Still I am very excited!!
Yesterday morning an alarm went off on my phone. The alert that in my focused inbox was a message.
The first line said: “Please Confirm Your My FlightNetwork Account Registration”and my first thought was “Oh shit, I’ve been hacked, AGAIN!”
Within minutes an another email was sent my way with flight confirmation to INDIA!!!
My husband who had been awake since before the sun was up, had found a great deal and purchased a round trip ticket for my trip in October.
This has not been the first time the love of my life has surprised me with the gift of travel though. A few months ago, hotel confirmation for my July travels to San Francisco were another good morning alarm.
Two great passions and look forward to writing and sharing the experiences. Viva la Frida!
So I have until the end of the month to make a deposit on the amazing trip to India in October.
If I can not make the trip, I am gifting myself the birthday present of a less expensive trip to here: https://kripalu.org/ for a writers retreat.
We carry our stories inside us. Some stories are easier to tell than others. There are stories we polish into well-formed, amusing anecdotes, and others we bury deep until they rise up and take us by surprise. When we attempt to write these stories, we face our own resistance. One of the most powerful ways to plumb the depths of our resistance and self-censorship is to come to know our own bodies and minds, where these stories live.
Join best-selling author Dani Shapiro for an inspiring experience that stays with you long after you return home. Through a powerful blend of meditation and movement accessible to everyone, generative writing exercises, group sharing, and discussion, we explore the courage, persistence, and patience that it takes to dive into memory and generate new work.
My guidebooks for India though are taunting me, wanting to be seen.
Last year at this time, I was in the midst of preparation.
My free time was spent researching, mapping out and planning my trip to Thailand, Cambodia and Myanmar. The trip of a lifetime and a dream come true!
Today, I am conflicted with the possibility to go somewhere I have always envisioned. A place a dear friend of mine went to and returned with stories and gifts for me, a few I wore on my wedding day.
The place is India and over the weekend I learned of an upcoming trip set for October with a group of fellow travel women.
What do you do when the opportunity to be the woman in the picture above awaits a decision?
Every time a piece of mine is published, I get the giddy excitement of a child.
I think there is nothing wrong with that.
Sometimes, you gotta be your own cheerleader…
Two pieces were published this week and I am happy as a clam.