Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Where am I?
Where am I ... is a question I could ask myself. I mean, I know I'm here, in Santa Barbara, but it's not where I expected to be. I thought, by this stage of the game, I'd be someplace else: up north, living in a cabin near Mt. Shasta and writing my memoirs. I thought I'd be hiking in the rustic canyons of Sisque County and taking regular trips to Ashland Oregon and Medford, for stimulation and to replenish my supplies.
Santa Barbara was not a place I planned to stay. I thought it would be a step, a rest point, the kind of place you stay for awhile, and then, look back at and remember. When I first arrived, 30 years ago, I took photographs, copious photographs, and I imagined that I would look at them in those days after I had moved on. I pictured myself sitting in an attic bedroom on a large, overstuffed chair, perusing photos of this city: the coral skies behind the harbor; the zig-zag peaks of the Santa Ynez Mountains and the lofty palms at Chase Palm Park; and as I did, I would settle so deeply into my skin that my memories would become palpable, and I would say to myself, "Aneet, you did it -- you lived there. Thank you for that gift."