In a Sentence

Suddenly, I’m in Los Angeles, working.

Black Umbrellas in June

It’s been an overwhelming week of both literal and metaphorical births and marriages and deaths. There’s so much mourning and celebration to be done. Where should I start? Before I can outstretch my arms and laugh, I fall on my knees to cry, but moments before I hit the dirt, something lifts me up and forces me to smile.

So I can’t really describe what it is that I’m seeing or feeling right now. It’s a smash of seasons–like I’m on the beach with an umbrella drinking hot tea to soothe my allergies.

(I tried to paint a nonsensical picture, but it came out just to be a fobby mom.)

It’s a flurry of everything too fast. But one thing I can say is that I feel more alive than ever. Life on crack is so much better than no life at all.

Gabe Bondoc Duet

I don’t think I’ve exercised that ghastly high register since middle-school choir when the director insisted I was high soprano. Life before puberty.