A Monument to You Through Infinity...

Long time no post. I'm used to it. The Gemini in me keeps my attention from lingering on any one project for too long. I wouldn't have it any other way, because when I come back - I come back somethin' fierce. Here it comes y'all. Buckle up, batten down - use the restroom, grab some snacks, 'cause this is a long post.

I'm ready to come back. To me that is.

I have been stuck lately, and today, the glacier began to crack and I could feel the magma of inspiration begin to boil. Eyjafjallajökull's got nothin' on me. Well, that's not entirely true. It probably has a lot more ash than I do...though, I have been a lazy moisturizer... I won't interfere with too many European flight schedules. Promise.

So much to catch up on. I promise I'll get to the point of this post...post haste.

I'm living in Sunnyside, Queens (literally a block and a half from the arch) with a wonderful friend, and colleague - Sheila. She's fantastic and we're just the right amount of laid back and responsible to gel really well and pay all our bills in a timely fashion. I now have a home - and what a home it is. Ask me about it - I love to gush...another thing Eyjafjallajökull and I seem to have in common. Though in the past few months - since January 15th - I have yet to fully explore any part of the neighborhood North of the Subway/Sunnyside Arch. Today, I did just that.

I've been such a bump on a log - with many thanks owed to Netflix and my Lovesac (watching Spartacus: Blood and Sand has never been more cozy...or more gratuitous - it got better, don't judge). That said, I have also been feeling incredibly...Meh. Apathetic. Uninspired. Stagnant. Static. More synonyms for "Meh." I've been trying to gather up the courage to move. To open my eyes. To run - figuratively and literally, creatively and emotionally. I mustered up the courage to take a walk today. Even the smallest of steps taken outside your front door should be counted as courageous. Sometimes it takes courage to do the most mundane things. Everyone is brave, everyday. I was brave and I am amazed at the wonder I encountered.

My neighborhood is home to some incredibly beautiful buildings, trees, and a really happening park. I kept myself from running all this time (literally now, kids) because I kept myself from exploration. We even have a library close by! If East Grand Rapids was 10 times cooler, 15 times more hemmed in, and 12 times more expensive - it would be this neighborhood. I continued on. There were times I wanted to turn back, but the beauty of it and the curiosity burning within kept me going. I walked past the park and was greeted with smaller older homes, and flowering trees.

The sun was dipping lower in the sky, and the path seemed to flame with shades of pink, orange and green. I continued on my walk, even when some of the old homes seemed a bit dodgy - I felt the need to keep on walking. I'd turn around eventually. A block or two later and I found myself approaching an underpass. Graffiti and all. The Long Island Railroad ran over the tracks above carting passengers home from a long day of work. Two older men were walking a dog up ahead on the opposite side of the street. I glanced at the grafitti as I walked by.

I continued to think about what lay before me. What was up ahead? In the distance the houses cropped up less and less, industry seemed to take over, and for some odd reason...I stopped. I thought, It's probably not too safe up ahead. The sun is setting, and I think I want to explore some of the areas I passed by earlier - if only to get some good surveying in for my jogging route. I crossed the street and began to make my way back underneath the train tracks. Don't forget to snap a picture of the graffiti, I reminded myself. Street art has always been one of life's greatest pleasures for me. I got out my phone and as I centered the full image from across the street, I gasped and my eyes began to well up.

I couldn't believe I didn't notice it before. She was there. The entire time. Walking with me, guiding me to this very spot. Of all the turns I took (and believe me, I took a great many) I ended here. Tomorrow, April 21st, marks exactly one year from my Mother's diagnosis. My heart swelled up into my throat. I had to get closer and take the time to read the words left underneath the train tracks. I crossed the street. A dog barked in the distance and two men looked up at a strange young man holding his phone up to the wall of the underpass...

I stopped, still, and I wept as I read the words:

M

A golden heart stopped beating

Hard working hands at rest

God broke our hearts to prove to us

He only takes the Best

O

"For if I could Love You More"

watch over us

dedicated

Love always,

Richie & Doma

M

That should there ever be an ending to time

To the rain ~ the sun ~ the moon ~ the wind & sea

I would become love & live boundless & free
Where time stands still

A Monument to you

Through Infinity...

we love ya, see ya, goodnight.

The frigid numbness that has forced me into stagnation and fear gave way to an eruption of emotion. Joy, pain, sorrow, longing, gratitude - these feelings and many more rose and fell with each tear shed beneath the underpass. I am happy again.

My Mother and I went on a walk today. And she led me back to my courage. It was there all along, just slumbering deep in the chamber of my heart. I found my foot path, and I'm ready to run.

...It's a great mid-point for my jogging route, too.

With love, and hugs, and courage to all those feeling uncertain or stuck in life,

~Ky~

"I love ya, see ya, goodnight."