- photo courtesy of Laura Phillips - my boo for life and photographer-ess extraordinaire -
Looking out the window, I think of many things.
I think about me, a month ago. Me - staring out the window, watching the snow. Waiting for something, anything to change. Watching the sky remain dark and my days remain long. Incubating. Hibernating. Waiting.
I think about easing into adulthood. I learned this year that everything isn't always going to be epic. I also learned that sometimes it will be, and these moments are meant to be enjoyed, cherished, and anticipated.
For the past seven years, I've been working as an optician. I have learned a lot from this funny side profession. I've learned to deal with crazy people, even to love them. I've learned to pay careful attention to detail, to make people happy, to make them feel special. But more than all of that, I've learned to see the world through wiser eyes. I've learned to ask questions, I've heard all of the joys and the tragedies of the lives of the people I have met. I love the old people the most. Especially the ones who have continually kept themselves ripe for change, who accept the suffering that life gives in exchange for the great gift of living life to it's fullest. Every day I meet people - some who are free, some who aren't. I've taken from my conversations with my patients a great deal more than I could have ever anticipated. I hold their stories and adventures and misfortunes close to my heart as I enter into a new chapter of my work-life. I realize that I'll miss it a little. For as much crazy as there is, there is love.
Suddenly I find myself ready to embark on a completely new and foreign experience. I cannot see ahead of me, and that is definitely scary. My fear and joy battle within me as the clock winds down to next Saturday, when I leave for Brooklyn. I fear failure, I anticipate great things. I am sad to leave the comfort of the life I have built for myself here, but remember looking out the window, always looking for a bigger view. I remember the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club song that asks, "Do you fear // nothing will take you as far as you'll go"? Somehow I know this is right for me, amidst the anxiety. I look for courage in the refrigerator in the morning and for peace under my pillow when I go to sleep. And I wait patiently to see it clearly.
I have the coolest opportunity to work for this amazing artist,
Isidro Blasco. His work is incredible, he combines collage and photography and sculpture and architecture and creates works that allow you to see into the feeling of a place. When I look at his work, I know I am seeing a place from multiple viewpoints, but I feel as if I am moving through it, learning it, and knowing it. Check it out. He is just fantastic! I feel so lucky to have the chance to assist him with his work, while living in New York, sharing a studio space, and learning, always learning. Its like nothing I've ever done, and if you know me, you know it is basically a dream being fulfilled. (If you're planning a trip to the ciy, please do call me. I'll need some familiar faces.)
TROKBLOG is a great way to keep up with me there, and I'll be focusing on the blog a lot more once I get there. All this personal stuff aside, expect photos of the work I am doing, shows I am getting to see, and much much more. Finishing up some loose ends here, so this may be my last Pittsburgh post. Thanks to everyone who is rooting for me, my friends here are the best anyone could hope for.
Troklove.
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