Last night I dreamt of cab drivers and LA -- a dreamy, over-saturated, warm, and wonderful LA that I've never experienced -- a Hollywood-bungalow-cartwheels-on-the-beach-rollerskating-vintage-dress LA.
I dreamt of road trips and freedom. I dreamt I was open and alive. Creative and full of the ability to remember and capture -- full to bursting with the mountains and the desert and the road. I dreamt of climbing on top of my car and taking photographs oozing color. I dreamt that I could see the energy charging everything around me and that it filled me and spilled out my eyes in laser beams and all I could do -- all I needed to do -- was just to stare. It understood. It came to me. Bursting!
I would kiss the cab driver if I found him and he had my phone. In my mind I have already. In my mind I have my phone back again. It is a great comfort.
This summer, I will get up early and practice cartwheels on the beach until I can do them well. Until I'm not scared to throw my arms down and my legs over. To invert my world and tumble headlong. I will tell myself that I'll come up okay every time.
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