It is today I wake up. In a strange bed with no sheets. on a floor. I have driven across Canada for the 3rd time now. looking for the right job. and the right situration.
I started work yesterday at excess beauty, The salon is nice, it has Aveda products. Jonathan the owner has worked there for 13 years. 2 before owing it. he is from some place near jasper. I can tell hes from alberta without asking because he has a way of saying hes worked here for 13 years without grudging. hinting at the fact hed rather be somewhere else, closer to home. I return after realzing fort mcmurray has an excess of over paying jobs. which are hard to find in the rest of the country. being a beautician I leech of the fact that women have excess amounts of money lying around to spend on making themselves more beautiful. In cities where there aren't many jobs, I unfortunately also do not really have one.
So I here I am again. For the third time returing to my forun home. A place no one fully understands. The oil fields. It sounds like a terrible place with nothing to do. But I find myself filled up a bit more here.
I make more money so I have more time to myself. Or something like that. I miss COOL/ do I fully understand what that means? Not until going back home. People were cooler there. They had studios for art and photography in their garages. The edge played awesome alternative music. My parents were more laid back and forgiving then I had remembered them. And people cared a little less about money and more about the world they live in.
I was re introduced to spending less money. And doing things that are free, like visiting friends or going to the library.
The library was huge for me. I felt connected to the culture I saw in books. poetry, art, history, photography. Books have the most amount of culture possible.
I wish to surround myself with more books/ Not just what I read on the internet. I fairly sifted through piece of what I should read, with a message directly infront of my nose.
Books leave the work up to you. The reader.. to decide which pieces of knowledge speak to you and your purpose. To see something pointless with no meaning and connect to it. Answering some deep unanswered questions hididng in the mind.
I felt relief listening to ANne Patchett on a book on tape during my drive.
She finally explained to me what it means to be a writer. Why deep down inside I narrate my life, examine events in pictures and stories. Replay them, re analize them. Imagine them one way, then change the details and make it all a little different.
I always thought I had the imagination of a painter. and have been struggiling my way to express whats in my head that way. And I some how reaized its through writing that I want to express what eveer it is hiding underneath all that water and emotions.
I love drawing, and drinking wine, running and painting, I want to make jewellery again and be inspired by other artists.
I have begun to work more into portraiture. Doing a clients lashes, hair and makeup. adjusting the light and then taking a beautiful picture.
Oh and I love my dog. and I miss her. It is almost a week we are apart now. And I long to make my life secure again so she can return. She is with my parents, living a somewhat more luxurious life then the one she would be living with me right now.
I slept in my car beside farm fields and lakes. I woke up to clean myself with moistened towellets as trucks passed by.
That is real freedom. And I will work my life to experience it again.