Pacing the hills, ocean in view, scent of summer in the air.
Coppertone suntan lotion wafting on breeze, impossible way up here so far from everyone. Must be a memory drifting in from my youth. Summers spent at the beach on the California coast. A high school thespian, performing plays and modern dance. Dreaming of modeling and acting. Pulsing with adolescent vitality. A fireball.
Not knowing how to get where I had to go, only that "no" could never be an option.
Loving the precious last days of youth -- the safety of high school, the freedom to be silly. And yet, waiting . . . breathless for that moment when I would fly from my secure cage and follow every wing-flap due north. The magnet of Hollywood pulling . . . calling . . ..
** There is more, a long string of Santa Barbara images. See second post below