365

that's the number of posts i've written on this blog.  this makes 366.

a year's worth of entries over the course of the four years i've had this blog.  

four years ago: 

i was 29.  i lived in Lexington, KY, and was working as a barista at Third Street Stuff.  my sister Misha had just passed, Mister Gemini and i were bringing to a legal close that seven year portion of our relationship that we spent as a married couple, and i was sorting my belongings to move across the continent to big ol' C-A.  running sometimes twice a day to calm my mind and spirit.  and drinking a lot of whiskey.

in the four years since: 

i performed and created costumes with my dream company Lucent Dossier (then Vaudeville Cirque, now Experience) in LA for the unequivocal performance time of my life. i fell in love and moved in with Sealion (and good friend Mackindaddy) in Sacramento, attended Burning Man for the first through third times. i auditioned for and got accepted to dance with a most auspicious (but now defunct) bellydance company, Ultra Gypsy, and passed on it.  followed my guiding star to study food ~ attending Bauman College's Natural Chef program, and then working extensively and finally apprenticing at Three Stone Hearth Community Supported Kitchen, began eating meat again for the first time since i was 16.  i ran a half, then a whole marathon (26.2 miles).  i married Sealion in the Black Rock Desert (then at the Sacto courthouse), moved to Berkeley, got pregnant, and had baby Anjali Sage after a week-long labor at home with a midwife that ended in an emergent C-section. 

right now:  i am a Mommy.  i am 33 years old.  i garden, sew, prepare and eat good food from the farmers' markets, walk and bike with my husband and baby, read, write and take pictures, and watch iTunes movies in bed at night with headphones.  i am cultivating a community close by.  each of my parents is retiring this summer.  my husband and i are investigating buying a house here in Berkeley.  i don't jog or dance nearly as much as i'd like to.  i drink close to a quart of  raw whole milk from Claravale Farm a day.  

(right-right now:  i'm eating a chicken salad sandwich while reclining in bed next to my sleeping almost-seven-month-old daughter, and my cat, Kitty, who is purring suspiciously close to that mug of raw milk on the nightstand.)    

i don't like to look back, nor do i revel much in past accomplishments.  i don't believe in "the good ol' days," preferring instead to believe that life can be lived in fullness any time we pay attention.  but i can't help but think i'd be hard-pressed to find a chunk of four years that are as dynamic as the past four.  there certainly were lulls and lows, but lots of highlights i left out of this little synopsis for brevity.  

this blog doesn't fully represent "me" the past four years, but it says a lot.  the silences oftentimes as much as the posts, what i leave out as much as i include.  it has evolved to be something i approach quite thoughtfully and mindfully.  i attempt to "put my best face forward" while at the same time being as authentic and honest as i can bare.  i hope to reach audience members who feel they can relate, and to help them not to feel alone.  and i would rather focus on the beauty of life as i see it ~ without airbrushing.  

when i was practicing dance in preparation for that big audition, i taped up a teabag wrapper for every time i practiced (as was my art ~ incorporating discarded items, pictures, and words in collage form, on fabric, butcher paper, on every surface and any wall).  this was to demonstrate to myself that, though the little bit didn't feel like much, bit by bit became a long line of green paper squares that extended across the wall, and rehearsals that led to a prepared audition.  these days, i don't have to tape teabag wrappers as i have a child who grows literally before my eyes.  starting out as a single cell inside of me, she has developed to be the 17-pound center of my life.  she embodies the idea that big shifts happen "day by day" and "minute by minute," as it's sung in one of my favorite Brett Dennen songs.  as quickly as Anjali grows and changes, i am urgently reminded to be present for each of those day-by-days.   

so, 365 posts later, here i am and here we are.  i am appreciative of the voice this blog gives me, and appreciative of those of you who come back again and again.  cheers!    

(ha!  i got quite link-happy here.   i think that's kind of a give-away of how contemplative this blog post made me, and how much later i'm awake than i planned to be. . i could keep going, linking words to previous entries, but ~ i'm sleepy.  gold star for anyone who clicks on every link.  or maybe a swat on the behind to say, "hey ~ close the friggin' computer and go outside!")