Beginning 2018 - Traveling Past Life and Ruins

Every year I make some sort of big shift in my world.

In 2016 I decided to get rid of everything that wouldn't fit into a backpack or a suitcase. I traveled around the country, forcing myself to ask people for help and take them up on it.

Last year was spent fumbling my way around Los Angeles after finding a group of friends who loved me for me, attempting to carve out a community while still traveling back and forth from the east to west coast and inbetween for work.

This year, I drove myself down from Oregon to Los Angeles in a two-day stint (I think my introversion really managed a complete energy recharge...like, I'm still not sure how I managed in the time I did!) to officially settle into LA to pursue my...well, dreams. It's cliche. But like, it's the truth?

Anyway. I decided (and with the help and insistence from @benbrick) to finally start sharing here. To start, here are photographs from my trip down south, out west.

If you haven't traveled to or from Oregon--it is highly, highly recommended. Especially up/down the 101. I wasn't able to hit the redwoods in a timely manner this time, but will absolutely be a goal for my next trip.

I hit the Santa Rosa fire ruins...

Seeing this neighborhood was fascinating. This was in Coffey Park. Apparently the fire hit the gamut of housing incomes, from trailer parks to mansions. Absolutely devastating.

I saw a mailbox on the ground in one of the driveways, with a fresh piece of paper next to it. The paper looked ALIVE. There were varying elements of life after the fire-- the decorated Christmas tree, the sprayed on green fire protection on the empty lots, the plants that survived (how!?).

Walking around, I thought about what matters to me, what I'd grab if I had only a couple minutes to evacuate... I thought about what I value out of life in general. What I consider irreplaceable, priceless. How to live in a way where I'm okay with the fact that everything is precious, but nothing is permanent.

I'd say I'm inspired to keep my mind light with love for what I've been lucky to have in my world thus far. A long lone drive down the coast, passing both life and loss, seemed to put me in a place of pure appreciation. Now to hold on!

Thanks for reading--