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The Story of PEARL - Blog #4

9/20/2015

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Happy 2013! I was so excited for this day, a New Year and another canvas in which to create my life. I headed out in the morning and caught the bus to San Francisco and the BART rail to San Francisco International Airport. I was heading to Los Angeles and so excited to just have a change of scenery. The flight was good and I sat next to a girl from Peru who lived in San Francisco. We had a great chat and swapped stories as my mother is also from Peru.
     Once in Los Angeles I caught the free shuttle from the airport to the Transit Bus Terminal and then caught the Big Blue Bus to Santa Monica. I loved that it only cost one dollar. I checked in to the local hostel just a couple blocks from the beach. I had a great large room with ensuite bath. I got settled, placed my items in the locker and then headed out. It was such a glorious day with bright blue skies, sunshine and warm temperatures. It was precisely what I needed after a very rainy December in the Bay Area.
     I walked down to the Pier and visited the shops and took in the sites. I captured some photographs of the beach and just inhaled the salty sea air which flowed through my body like a wave of blissful energy. I stopped at Pier Burger for lunch and had a divine cheeseburger and French fries that reminded me of In-N-Out burger. I continued walking down the Pier and listened to music from musicians playing their tunes. I found a bench overlooking the sea and I sat there and just relaxed. It was pure bliss as I watched the world go by.
     After resting for a while I walked back towards Ocean Avenue. I stopped to visit a psychic who had set up shop on the Pier. The sign read $1.00/minute. I handed over the $7.00 I had in my wallet and said I wanted to know about the two men in my life, my Love and Grant, and my health issues with my back. She told me there was no need to decide on the men immediately and that there was actually a third man coming into my life. I thought, “Oh joy! Just what I need, another one.” She suggested acupuncture for my back and at that point I was up for anything since I hadn’t found relief from what I had tried so far.
     As the day carried on, my back began to stiffen up and became sore. I strolled along the Third Street Promenade, the most popular shopping area in downtown Santa Monica. I was determined to find my new journal for 2013. I have kept a written journal since high school, and it was always a fun experience to purchase a new one each year. It had to be something special, something that would call to me. I ended up in Barnes & Noble and found a purple leather bound journal with a hummingbird and floral décor on the cover. It seemed appropriate as it reminded me of London and the Hummingbird Bakery.
     Through the stroll around Santa Monica I kept seeing signs that reminded me of England, and I felt confused because that was where my Love was living at the time, but it was also where Grant was from. So where were the signs pointing? I had no clue. After leaving Barnes & Noble I strolled down to Palisades Park overlooking the ocean to watch the sunset. It was truly spectacular and I captured some beautiful photographs. By this point however, my back was throbbing and I just wanted to lie down, so I headed back to my room at the hostel. I surfed the internet for a little while and went to sleep at 8:30pm.






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The Story of PEARL - Blog #3

9/14/2015

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     The skies were overcast as we woke for our Paris adventure. We caught the tube from Earl’s Court to St. Pancras station for the 8:30 am departure on the Eurostar. I love the ease of taking the train across the Chunnel into France. As we crossed it began to rain and Annie and I both said out loud, “NO!” A little while later the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds and we were all smiles. We arrived in Paris a little before 12:00pm. We purchased our Metro tickets and were on our way to explore.
     One would think that after walking away from a ten year relationship with the man I loved, that Paris would be the last place I would want to visit, but it was actually a blessing. There’s something about that city that speaks to my soul in a way no other does. It’s a soothing feeling, almost like a soft blanket to a child.
     Our first stop was the Eiffel Tower. As we approached I was struck with inspiration for a photograph. I could see it perfectly and just had to find a way to capture what I envisioned in my mind. I told Annie what I was hoping to capture and she played the role of photographer. After about a half dozen attempts, she nailed it and I was thrilled. We then sat on a bench in view of the tower and had our lunch and chatted about our lives and our dreams. I hadn’t seen Annie for years so it was nice to catch up in person as opposed to the usual social media chats.
     After lunch we headed towards the Champs-Elysees to window shop and then to the Arc de Triomphe. After capturing some more photographs we headed to St. Germain and the Latin Quarter. We stopped by The Deux Magots, a small café where Picasso and Hemingway frequented in the 1920s. We split a piece of divine chocolate cake that cost 9.50 Euro. It was worth it. We then visited the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Pres across the way. The architecture and interior were stunning and we captured more photos as we read the carvings alongside each statue.
     After spending some time in the Latin Quarter visiting the shops and photographing the quaint streets and sites, we headed back towards the Gare de Nord rail station. We stopped in some shops to pick up a few souvenirs before catching our train back to London a little after 6:00 pm. The ride was very nice and we arrived back at St. Pancras railway station at 7:40 pm. We stopped briefly at the London 2012 shop in the station to purchase some Olympic souvenirs. Annie and I said our goodbyes and then we each caught the tube to our respected destinations. I arrived back to the hostel in Earl’s Court and finished packing my suitcase before calling it a night as I was heading back to America the next day.

 


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The Fated Path - September 11, 2001

9/11/2015

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     Fog drapes the hillside on this spring morning, and the sun’s reflection gleams on Richardson Bay. Spanning two square miles and home to 7,000 residents, Sausalito, California is a haven for the inspired mind. Those eager to express their creativity find a home on its waters or its verdant hills. I first came to Sausalito in the summer of 2002 and felt immediately I would come to call this bayside village home. I can’t explain the feeling, but knew deep down this was where I was meant to be: truly at home, truly at peace.

     Ten years later here I sit in my studio overlooking the bay surrounded by the reminders of why this place grasps the souls it has touched. To one side sits the famed recording studios The Plant, which hosted some of the biggest names in recording history: Fleetwood Mac, Aretha Franklin, Carlos Santana, Prince, and many other music legends. Otis Redding wrote Dock of the Bay living on a houseboat at nearby Waldo Point, and nowadays the ICB (Industrial Center Building) studios house artists who live and breathe their creations.

     I look back to that first visit to Sausalito and how it almost never happened. The one person in my life who had been a constant source of love and inspiration was living in Sausalito at the time, yet we almost didn’t meet. Back in September, 2001, he was working in New York City the week leading up to the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He had a ticket to fly back to San Francisco on Flight 93 on September 11th, the flight that crashed down in Pennsylvania. For some reason a few days prior, he decided to change his flight and fly home early. We met the following spring. I often think back to that day and how different my life would be had he boarded that plane, and every September 11th I thank God he didn’t.


     It somehow seems fitting now that it was Sausalito where I discovered my true calling, my purpose in life; where I discovered my authentic self. For as long as I can remember I loved to write and take photographs. Both came naturally to me but it didn’t start out as my chosen path. It wasn’t until the summer of 2010 before my work as a photographer was first officially recognized. One of my pieces was exhibited in conjunction with the Sausalito Art Festival, and soon I was encouraged to create a collection of my photographs. Following the festival I was introduced to a local resident. She looked at me, shook my hand and said, “Oh! You are the ARTIST!” For the first time that label felt right, as though I had been avoiding or running from it unknowingly.

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The Story of PEARL - Blog #2

9/7/2015

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     At 9:00 pm my Love took the stage and the crowd went wild. It had been years since I had been to one of his concerts here in England and I didn’t really know what to expect. As I sat there taking it all in, the crowd, the lights, the décor, his presence on stage, I began to reflect on years passed. I remembered how new everything was ten years ago when we first met at a party hosted by a local radio station on the east coast of America, how much we experienced and how much had changed since then.
    
Back then he was just a boy with the voice of an angel and a dream of making it without the strangling hold on a major record label, and I was a former athlete and then journalist who had just lived my Olympic dream at the Winter Games in Salt Lake City, Utah. We were so different but somehow we connected and shared this magical bond. Now here I was ten years later wondering what had happened.


     As I sat there listening to song after song, memories of our times together flooded my mind. I looked to the stage at this man who had been such a large part of my life and I didn’t recognize him. What happened to the boy I once knew, so full of life and big dreams? Then all of the sudden he began to sing a new song which literally brought me to tears. The lyrics were so haunting as if he was singing it to me. He sang of a different time and how things had changed, how we really didn’t know one another anymore. I was practically sobbing and had to control myself as to not make a scene. Luckily my seat was in the corner of the theatre where I didn’t bring much attention. My heart sank as the words resonated with what we were experiencing and I realized in that moment that this was the end for us. The chapter was coming to a close and it was time for both of us to move on.

     I wanted to get up and leave as soon as the song ended but I couldn’t move. I felt numb and lost in a way.  I gazed out at this one man had been such a huge part of my life for the last decade. He was the reason I was still alive I felt. It was his love that saw me through the worst time of my life when I lost my child and didn’t feel I could go on. Now I was being shown that I needed to go on, without him. How would this be possible?

 


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