Echo

Run, City, Run

Every day I find something beautiful and awe-inspiring. I feel like I’m having a love affair with the city of Seattle, and the people are incidental. They add to the experience, but it’s really about the adventure of discovery of all the special treasures of this city.

On Friday, right around sunset, I had the sudden urge to go for a jog. I’m an indoor athlete. And also part vampire (skin is very sensitive to sun, and allergic to sun block. Plus all the prowling at night). The only times I can remember jogging outside are the few times I’ve been in Taiwan and jogged…to the gym. But this was something special.

I can run for miles and miles on a treadmill as long as I have a book in front of me to keep my brain occupied…otherwise, I’m aware of how much everything hurts or burns and how slowly time moves, and I end up wanting to do something else. But running outside, I can only go a few blocks before becoming really bored.

But my run around my neighborhood was amazing. Everything was so beautiful, the weather was perfect, and every block was a new discovery; I ran for over an hour. I ran through my neighborhood, checking out people and food on the patios of restaurants. I ran until I would get myself lost, discovering new stores and architecture and landscapes, then ran myself back into the familiar. I ran along the water, heading all the way to the Fish Market, and back to where the cruise ships come in (the Celebrity Infinity had been docked that day but was gone just as abruptly as it appeared). I had the urge to high five everyone I passed. I ran the steps of Pier 66, across the bridge back into my neighborhood, then headed towards the Sculpture Garden with that amazing water fountain statue of the man and his child reaching for each other. I rested and met a couple from Eugene, Oregon, and talked to them for a bit. The sunset in the background was breathtaking.

I sprinted up the hills, ran forwards, backwards, laterally, sometimes dancing at stoplights, then stopping to take in the sunset in the little hidden alcoves I would find with panoramic views.

I’ve never felt so happy, so free, to be moving like mercury through space, the wind and pure inspiration at my back. I was surrounded by beauty and discovery. I was surrounded by everything that was proof of life and God. It was an incredible feeling of physical, spiritual and aesthetic euphoria.

Today, I ran towards the Sculpture Garden again and found a slope of grass overlooking the water. While waiting for the sunset, I read The Tale of the Rose by Consuelo de Saint-Exupery, the wife of Antoine de Saint-Exupery and supposed inspiration for The Little Prince. It’s a beautiful story so far. There’s a lot I could relate to that made me feel relieved and inspired.

“Consuelo, you are not a woman.”…

“Am I an angel, then? An animal? Do I not exist?” I asked him fiercely at last…

“For as long as we have been on this ship, I have been wondering what you are. I know I like what is within you, but I also know that you are not a woman.”

This made me laugh. I have been told this before as well, with similar vague and ambiguous explanations. It reminded me of the guy from the bar a few days ago, who wouldn’t (or couldn’t) explain why he wished me “Be good” as a kind farewell, but said that whatever I am, he respected both sides.

There were so many passages and quotes that either struck chords in me, giving me sudden words for abstract feelings that have floated inside me, and many things that I noted to remember as important for when the time is right.

“You’re going to live an intense life,” he said to Tonio. “Don’t let jealous people get to you, always keep moving ahead.” And he confided to me, “He’s a great fellow: make him write, and people will talk about the two of you.”

I think I understand the choice I need to make in life. I am being asked to choose–inspiration and fuel for art, but never having what I want most, because while I’m being denied what I “think” I want most (an enduring romantic love), I’m getting exactly what I want most–art. Or I could choose the stability of a working domestic partnership, grounded to earth, but I would have to give up seeking fuel for my art if it conflicts with the needs and boundaries of the relationship. The truth is, I have a belief that there’s a win-win situation where I can have the benefits of both. The trick is to balance the compromise so in the space between the two, I’m happy with what I have, and have no regret about what I gave up.

I’ve already accepted that what’s lost was once found and what’s found was once lost, so nothing of value is ever lost forever. If it was something you really needed, you’ll find it down the road, two feet ahead.

I’ve also accepted that I want only what’s mine, and what’s mine will become obvious when it’s the right time and I’ve decided I’m ready. That’s why I don’t worry about letting people go, or pursuing people. A wise man once told me, “You should never fight for love or chase it. Love should just happen.” I think life should just happen as well. And when I have to let go of certain people, I just think, how amazing it would be to round the corner and there they are.

Or even more intriguing, maybe it’s someone I’ve never met before but is beyond anything I ever imagined, and we can’t stop giggling when we meet because even though we’re strangers, we can’t believe we’ve found each other.

I’m open to either. I want only what’s mine.

And I think I’m ready, universe.

Michael had decided he wanted to leave on Friday instead of Sunday because he was feeling homesick. But he had a great time and really loved Seattle. On Thursday night, we were laying in bed and he was excitedly talking about things he loved about Seattle. He loved that the clouds were beautiful and that you could walk everywhere. He loved that we’re close to the water and can see it from the balcony. He loved that my building has a swimming pool and gym. Mostly, he loved the sounds.

“Do you hear that, Julia? That’s a plane! That’s the 3rd plane I’ve heard already. It’s marvelous!” he said (incidentally, I’ve never heard him use the word “marvelous”). “You can hear everything. Planes. Trains. Cars…”

“You can hear boats, too…”

“Boats, too?! You really can hear everything!”

Michael was so excited (he asked me to wake him up if I heard any trains, planes or boats). I was excited, too, because I had no idea Michael shared my love for night sounds. I love night sounds (wind, rain, crickets, etc), but I also like distant sounds of travel. As a child, I always slept with my window open and could hear distant trucks and train whistles in the middle of the night. I like that in the deepest of night, you are alone, but these sounds remind you that you are also not alone.

I was sad to drop Michael off at the airport. We had a little tiff. People in our family are terrible with goodbyes. But I called my mom that night to make sure Michael was okay, and she said when they picked him up, he looked great –really happy–and he’d been telling them all about how great Seattle is, and how I had set up a wonderful home here.

Temporary home. One year to write my book, secure my secondary home, reveal my guy and bring him home.

Into the Blue and Gray – Seattle – Day 1

Michael and I spent the night before in Portland with Amber and Jason in the cute little house they share with their springer spaniel, Parker, and cats, Honky and Crackers (the cats are white with tan splotches. They look identical but according to Amber, Honky is the honor roll student, and Crackers is the smoking under the bleachers badass).

We got up in the morning and Michael wanted to get right on the road to Seattle, so we picked up some coffee and coffee cake at a place Amber recommended, Jim & Patty’s (had the Oatmeal Coconut and Marionberry…both excellent), and hit the road.

We got into Seattle at 11am, finding a radio station playing 90’s music in honor of 09/09/09. The 90’s were probably my favorite decade of music.

Got the keys for my apartment, and finally…we were home. The view of the water was as majestic as I remembered.

Thank God Michael came. It would have probably taken me hours to unload my car, but with Big Mike it took about 20 minutes. Ran a day’s worth of errands to get minor furniture and house stuff. It’s ridiculous how expensive it is to move. You really have to start over. Stuff that you don’t even think about, like saran wrap and spatulas and garbage cans. You need everything. As I’m writing this five days later, I still haven’t gotten salt and pepper. Or saran wrap. Michael was a great sport and worked so hard, helping me get situated.

We had lunch at a Vietnamese/Thai restaurant that Michael had picked out, and the proprietors were a little Asian woman and her bleach-blond haired son. They were both so friendly and smiley, and halfway through the meal, the woman brought Michael a second can of soy milk, saying, “This one’s on me!” Michael was so excited about that gesture of generosity, he talked about it over the next few days. Michael’s such a sweet person; he seems to always be getting free stuff from people who recognize how special he is.

I put the furniture together while Michael watched. He told me I’m his hero because I’m able to handle things myself and don’t need other people’s help. That was very touching. I told him that I’m only able to take risks to become self-sufficient because of all the love and support I have from him and our parents. Without support from people who can anchor you, it’s hard to see how high you can fly.

Outside, dusk fell and the sky changed into the most beautiful contrasts of blues, grays and silvers. Last February (the 28th in fact…the anniversary of Leap Day), when I’d come to Seattle to recuperate from my year abroad, I’d told Rie that the sky here turns colors I don’t have the words to describe…I wish I knew the names for each tone and texture of color that the sky and water possess at dusk here. I wish I had a way of describing what my eyes and heart take in every time the sun sets. I can’t believe that I have this to look forward to every single day.

The radio station we were listening to mentioned that Weezer and Blink 182 would be playing in a concert the next day.

“Julia, Weezer’s playing tomorrow,” Michael said. “We should see if we can buy tickets.”

Weezer’s one of Michael’s favorite bands and he’s never been to one of their shows. I’ve been wanting to do something special for him because he’s been so nice to come with me and help me move, so I told him I would look for tickets.

Michael has been wanting to check out the bar I’d told everyone about, the place that will be my writing spot for my home away from home, so we headed there for dinner and to use the wifi to look for tickets.

It was a girl I didn’t know behind the bar, but as we were getting situated, Peter walked up. He was happy to see me and I introduced him to Michael as the only person I know in Seattle. Michael was happy to meet him and Peter said, “You’re a very happy person.” Michael has been all smiles all week.

We buy Weezer tickets online, and there’s an older guy sitting next to me who tells me to check out this band that’s going to be playing next month. The guy, Scott, asks me what brings me to Seattle, and I’m vague as I sometimes am with strangers, telling him “Who knows…” but that when I’m done accomplishing what I’m here to accomplish, I’m going back to California. He tells me that he wants to tell me the truth, that Seattle is a very unfriendly town, that people seem friendly but they don’t let anyone in. I tell him that this is exactly what I’m looking for–in LA, people are so co-dependent that they can’t believe someone would willingly be out and about alone, so when I’m out by myself, people can’t leave me alone. The thing I like about Seattle, is that I can go to crowded places, take everything in, and while people will appraoch, they aren’t aggressive if I’m not giving them eye contact.

As we’re leaving, he tells me, “Be good.” I say, “That’s funny…a lot of people have been saying that to me. ‘Be good.’ Do I seem like I wouldn’t be?”

He opens his mouth but doesn’t really say anything, then says, “I can’t really get into it with you right now.”

This confuses me, but I take it for what it’s worth.

“Hmmm,” I say. “No one can really see themselves. You can have a strong idea of who you are, but what you appear to other people, you can never know except as it’s reflected to you from what others perceive.”

He says, “You seem like you have more going on than the average person, more than one side. That’s why I say, ‘Be good.’ But I respect both.”

I remember what that woman had said, about how I’m appearing to be both sides of the moon simultaneously, and that is intriguing people.

“Thanks,” I say. He tells me that if I go to that concert next month, he’ll look for me and buy me a drink. “Sure,” I say, but we’ll see…

I’d bought a queen-sized air mattress because my bed won’t get here for another week or so, but it didn’t have a pump. I didn’t want Michael sleeping on the floor and hurt his back, so I ended up having to blow it up myself. It took an hour and I had to stop a few times when I got dizzy, but I have the lungs of a champ. I freakin’ inflated that thing!

No one ever gets to say I don’t love my brother.

We sleep with the door to the balcony open…the sounds of trains and the ocean lulling us to sleep.