I'm part city, part country, part gypsy, part gardener.
The pulse of the city makes my jaw tighten and a smile lift to my lips. It witnesses me and inspires me to wear red lipstick and sway my hips. The city brings out the creative and expression of self yet cultivates an awareness and a deep compassion to the obvious signs of poverty and interconnectness of all: a dichotomy that is perverse and consumptive.
The beat of the country calms and nurtures a quieter soul. It softens and calms the nervous system. It challenges me to slow down and embrace nature, neutral tones and hush whispers. It feels familiar and contemplative yet challenges the desire to be part of something bigger: adverse to being disconnected.
The country girl is an imaginary friend who comforts me when I want to leave the urban landscape and plant tomatoes to grow and eat fresh picked greens that I've never planted. She lives in my fantasy, green-utilitarian live.
The gypsy wanderer travels freely, planting seeds of love washing them over with smiles and kisses but never remaining long enough to see if anything grows from her affection. She lives in the moment, ever-loving and non attached.
The city gal is pleased as red wine slips through her lips, glancing through her costume glasses, and tasting the flavors of different regions, listening to multi-tongues and wandering from street to street, noticing people across the way, greeting eyes with a wink and a smile.
The country girl goes for a hikes and reaches for the ocean shores like its home. She yearns to breathe fresh air where no one for miles can interrupt the space between the thoughts. She meditates while cooking and tending to her house plants and likes to sing on solo walks beneath the stars and a full moon.
The city gal smokes cigarettes and drinks red wine while watching people walk by. The gardener makes juice and cooks slow and easy food. The city gal flirts and shakes her ass dancing. The country gal wants to settle down. The gypsy wanderer wants to travel and trade massage for jewels and kisses for food. The gardener wants to find home and plants seed to grow. I am these pieces of me... Traveling, loving, dancing, participating, searching, healing, educating, and celebrating.
I am parts of myself.
I am whole.
I am wild, expressive.
I am calm, peaceful.
I feel like I don't belong.
I am never alone.