Travel to New Orleans

The beginning of a new journey requires an openness to expect the unexpected. What fun would it be if all answers were given to you. My greatest desire is to see a new world, to meet strangers that can become friends. The art of travel isn’t having the perfect irtenery, its in the moments of getting lost and the random moment I discover something new. It’s creating memories that will return to me and take home that make travel worth it all.

When we take the time to learn another’s journey and see the battle fields with our own eye, that generations after are still fighting. Their stories open our hearts and now have a name and a face to stories that were told to us growing up.

The company of friends, the connections we grow as we walk the city, drive the highway and fly through the clouds, together we make everywhere we go, home.

New Orleans is alive and well. History happened here, and the community’s will to overcome has once again made the city come to life. Its a place where strangers work together to create music, to sing above the hardships many had to face through out history. The ghost of the past haunt the streets, but its the life of the present that brightens up each street corner. If you stop to smile, you will receive a smile back. We walked the fields of slaves, visited a house of slaves owners, and felt the aches of hearts broken at the cost of profits. It was the sight I saw the day before we left that help me process history’s ugly past,  there in front of me was a couple who was black and white ridding bikes together along the Mississippi River. I am fortunate to be part of history, for I myself am free to travel the world to see the stories of others unfold before me.

Photos: Native American Pow-Wow

My friend invited me to a Native American Pow Wow that was taking places near Palm Springs today. He gave me some warning tips since I would be an “outsider”. He knows where I go, my camera comes with me.

I found it very interesting being allowed in to this world I only read about in history books. A place where Native Americans call themselves the name white men gave to them long ago, “Indians.” I couldn’t help but look at the fine details of their jewelry, the colors that were used and the feathers that made them into warriors.

The sound of the drums seemed to go in rhythm with my very own heart beat. The yelling no longer sound like noise but instead I could hear the call of unity.

 

What I found beautiful, generations before misunderstood.

A Monday

7am – Last night I had so many dreams, to many to remember. I saw faces that I haven’t seen in years. I time traveled back in to the history of my life, and felt feelings I had felt since the moment they were real. I woke up not wanting to leave my bed. “Oh, if my dreams could be true.” I thought about where I would be if I could be anywhere and be doing anything. I imaged myself in Iceland waiting for the train, observing the people around me. I could see small children in their handmade colorful sweaters looking up at their parents and then looking towards me, wondering why I was looking at them. I felt the cool air on my face and I could see the large shadows the small town buildings were making from the bright morning sun.

740am – I sat in traffic looking around at my city. All the building seem more than 50 years old. Most of the businesses don’t even exist anymore. There is this funny little sign that sits in the window that says, “Do not put your teeth on the wall.”  I laugh every time I see it but then wondering what it means. It looks like a child wrote it but then again some people are odd.  A homeless man walked across the street. His hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in months, his clothes are dirty. He looks young but walks hunched over like an old man. I wonder about his life, where he went wrong, when did his family give up on him, when did he give up on himself. I tried to guess what drug he is on. My guess is methamphetamine, since it’s San Bernardino most popular drug.

8:30am – Work. I begin to research for a new video project about some of the greatest headlines in the 20th & 21st century. I start with 1930 and begin to make my way up. For the first time these major events were coming to life.  Looking at old photos and watching video clips made me experiences each event as if it were breaking news. What gets me every time is reading about when John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Then watching the video clip of his murderer getting shot on national TV makes it feel all so real.  I read about the youth rebellion, when drugs became a movement, when abortion became legal, when the Vietnam War called for a draft. Now that generation are the leaders. To think they were once so out of control. My parents tell me stories of how they found God. I love the fact  my parents made the decision to follow Jesus. In the 1970’s the Time magazine had a cover of Jesus with the subtext, “The Jesus Revolution.” Oh history, how we are all connected. Each generation.

1140am – Lunch. I left my office thinking about history. I wondered if my parents generation have regrets. I wondered about the people who fought so hard for something that they believe in like, Abortion and now being older  if they have the same perspective. Do they ever think of all the millions of lives that have been affected? In history there have been so many key people who have changed the world for the bad and for the good. When Bill Gates developed Microsoft in his garage, when Steve Jobs and his friend started Apple.

1210pm – I parked my car at the market and switched thinking gears. My stomach now was in control of my thoughts. As I shopped around I text my friend, “I wish I was a writer.” He responds, “Then WRITE.”  I grabbed a few things and then stood in line. When it was my turn the cashier guy didn’t say hello. It made me sad to think people don’t even say hi anymore. I stood there looking at his eyes, he finally noticed and looked at mine. I swiped my card wondering what was wrong, why was he so sad. I told myself to look in to his eyes again. I felt like he needed to know I see him. We again make eye contact and I walk away.

450pm – I look at the clock and it’s already time to go home. I walked to my car wanting to do something with my day. I come home and my bed looks at me. I know she wants me to go to sleep but chose not to. I have dinner with my mom and listen to her talk. I awkwardly ask her if a boy can come visit me for the weekend afraid she is going to ask a million questions. She says sure and I hurry and change the subject. I talk to her about Polaroid film.

600pm – I watch some of the Office and text my friend. He calls me on his break and I tell him about my history filled day. As soon as we get off the phone I go outside and ride my bike. As I ride I wonder what my neighbors must think of me when they see me outside their window. The site of a 27-year-old girl ride her bike as if she were 14 years old girl. I push myself to do another block and then returned home. It felt great to exercise. I felt inspired.

800pm – I turn off The Office and make myself a cup of tea. Time to write. And so I do.

923pm – More than an hour and a half later. I’m not a writer but hey would you look at that.. I wrote my first blog using words.  Now enjoy the music and tell me about your day. 🙂

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