Winter Day

Andre Braugher’s kid was one of my winter campers. I saw Andre at the bus stop in Montclair and told him I knew him but couldn’t place him. That was probably the type of response he’d prefer from one of Mike’s counselors.

It’s New Year’s day. I’m feeling like I have a better sense of place now, not here at Frost Valley but in my blog and in my documentation of artwork. I’m at a point in my life where I’m homeless in a way. My family is no longer looking after me, and I haven’t met anyone who I can start a new life with. I’m in this sort of secret world. I can change constantly and hurt no one. I can “find myself” and explore… but there is no one but me to witness it. No one experiences my joy but me and that’s a VERY new sensation. Used to be I didn’t feel like I was ever really doing or feeling anything unless someone else was watching and sharing the moment with me.

I’m becoming my best friend. It’s scary in a way but I’m taking on self-love in lieu of camaraderie. It’s like a loneliness butterfly. I had to come to a very low place in my life to just begin to get to know this part of myself. My entire outlook on life has changed. And basically, I’m not afraid anymore.

Today I ran for 2 miles and did some yoga. I worked out alone. I left the gym alone… but I didn’t long to see someone, to tell them about the beautiful snow, how great my back felt. I just happily walked home, the long way. I didn’t feel too cold and I appreciated the soft snow and white trees the way I’d usually appreciate a beautiful spring day (I used to dislike most things winter). It’s like I wasn’t being compared to anything. The world wasn’t being compared to anything and so we just existed quietly together as though it was our first time- and in a way, it probably was.


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