we will erect a barricade of our own.

oh strange, oh chaotic, oh insipid madness. where have you come from?

impromptu visit to southern california this weekend. family madness. this time from the other side. normally, it's my family that calls with the RUSH RUSH NOW NOW (and for very good reason lately), but this time it was my partner's and i owe him one. to tag along, at least, really is the least i can do. and that's exactly what he asked me for so that's exactly what i did. threw my jeans and notebook in a bag and grabbed the dog food. 500 miles in a car going down the horrible I-5 just to find out the situation isn't exactly what was told to you on the phone. madness, madness, madness. and MEAN. was anyone dying? no. were we told that death was on the horizon? yes. was that the real reason for the call? apparently not. CON. SCAM. and then the massive agitation, the sweep of deep sadness: learning that the people you haven't seen in 7 years haven't changed one bit... that the reason for such tremendous, unbreakable distance is a good one and obviously still necessary. but that is A Past that isn't mine to chronicle. suffice to say- sometimes even family must be cut away. i've had to do it too. for as much as it hurts, for as much as it offends common notions of "family", not all of us come from those kinds of families. not all of us were born with roses and white fences and kisses on the cheek. not every baby gets told 'i love you'. some families must splinter. some relations must be severed. it is a hard reality and not fun for anyone. some homes have to break so that there is at least the chance of survival, the chance of escape, the chance to find The Beginning of your own life, that site that so many people seem to take for granted, as a given. it isn't given to us all.

and so there we are, in the horrible heat of southern california. 110 degree (plus) weather and a black dog who only wants to pant in the shade and eat ice-cubes. the heat down there is dangerous for rottweilers and i was worried over my little one the entire time.

but it wasn't all bad. i got to see a pair of my old friends, some of the best i've ever had, some of the best people on the planet, people i count myself extremely lucky to know. we talked talked talked and she showed me Sweeny Todd (the one with Johnny Depp because i hadn't seen it yet) and The Mighty Boosh and lent me her copies of Persepolis and Embroideries. I will mail them back with my copy of A Child's Life by Pheobe Glockner.

we are friends that get nerdy together- graphic novels and musicals and lots of chips and salsa. :) and it felt like no time had passed. none at all. that's when you know you have a real friend, a real and true bond. and i said 'i love you' when i left and so did she and that feels wonderful and sweet and good. i think friends should say 'i love you' more often. i will make a point of doing that, for sure.

and then back up the I-5, me driving this time so that J could sleep. and he slept pretty much the whole way back. lots of cops on the interstate so no one was going 90 miles an hour through the Dust Bowls out there. no one sped past the Cow Killing Floor at Coalinga. for as desolate as it is out there, there's a lot to see if you travel a bit slower. lots of sad stuff to see. it is a horrible drive. and half the rest areas are now closed and barricaded.

i left the radio off and drove in silence the entire way back while my man and my little baby girl dog slept off the heat and agitation of southern california. i thought about what life has been, what it is, how it twirls. and with every mile gained closer to home, watching the temperature fall, and thinking of my paintings and my poems and my blog i was just so thankful. when i passed CalArts i thought NO as an option for grad school one day. too many bad memories in southern california for me and my little family. i don't ever want to live there again, even though CalArts holds some wonderful memories for me, one of the few places down there that do.

we got in the door at 11 last night and tumbled quickly in to bed. when our alarm went off this morning, i had to peel myself out of bed. now, here with my coffee and a new sun up in the air, i feel safe and happy and calm. tired, but no less happy as a result. glad to be home, glad for the life we've built, glad for the simplicity of it, the strength of it, and a renewed commitment to keep going, keep trying, and leave The Past where it belongs.