“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” 
-Neil Gaiman

During transitioning periods in my life I've always needed to take some time for solitude. It's a time where I can reflect on all the epic shit I've done and to also figure out a way to grow and learn from the not so epic instances. This often involves checking out completely from social media and sometimes from folks. The people that love me and know me understand this about me and I love them for being supportive during these times. Taking time for solitude is so fucking important to me. It's where I learn about myself the most. How can I be better? How the fuck did I get myself into that shit? Though I try not to do a lot of beating-myself-up. That shit just leads into a black hole of self-loathing. I am human after all. Honestly, I don't have many regrets. I've come to the realization that life is a series of ups and downs so I try to go with the flow as much as possible. This may give the impression that I do life on the fly because often I can be a bit nonchalant about life's many tribulations. The reality of all of this is the complete opposite. All my choices have always been well thought out and intentional. But it wasn't always like this. I spent a lot of years worrying about what people thought of me. Constantly full of anxiety with minuscule shit I had absolutely no control over. Always terrified to take risks. It's scary AF to take that kind of responsibility for one's own life. I mean, you have no one else to hold accountable for your choices at that point. And I strive to take full responsibility for any of the choices I make. I've found life is a lot more rewarding this way. Good or bad. These last few months have been the hardest in a very long time. I spent a good amount of that time feeling sorry for myself, even this is a necessary part of one's growth. The good thing is I have been able to spend more time working in the studio. The 12x24 foot room needed a lot of love. I started the remodel before heading out to Tucson for Trans Am training. Not much had been done except for a couple pieces of dry wall. Now it's like a completely different place. The smell of cat piss is gone. I put trim around the windows. I insulated the walls and ceiling. Added some sick AF trim around the ceilings from some beautiful aged wood I found in the garage. I'm pretty impressed with the work. It will be the creative hub I've been needing. I plan on taking full advantage of the space and will be looking forward to making lots of cool shit! Did I mention I'm roasting coffee, too! Now that it's finally complete my focus has turned to actually making art. There is a show in January and I've submitted to several more places. Fingers crossed!! The other chunk of time has been spent training for a half marathon this winter. My first one! I am looking forward to this new challenge. I've decided that I'm also going to take another stab at Trans American Bike Race in a couple of years. I've been reading and researching veteran blogs. How can I best prepare my body for 4300 miles on the bike. I'm competitive and I want to race. I want to go fast. In my lack of experience in endurance racing, the Trans Am knocked me on my ass on more than one occasion as I traversed my way through the mountains. Needless to say I was humbled by the amount of effort that it took to ride through that kind of elevation daily for 1300 miles. I'm truly in awe of the folks that were at the finish line before I finally scratched in Montana. This is not a thing you can pull off by just winging it. I've never been one to train for anything when it comes to athletics. I've always had a natural ability in most physical endeavors. But this brought a whole new respect for athletes that put the time and effort into training. I know how much time and dedication it takes. It really becomes your life. Lately, and I'll apologize to my friends who have not seen much of me these days, I've been putting most of my time on strengthening my body for 2020. As I delve into every Trans Am blog it was great to go back and think about some of the more memorable moments of my race. Like the morning just out of Kooskia, Idaho. I stopped for breakfast in Syringa before my big trek into miles of wilderness. My order was what became the norm in the mornings before I hauled ass. The waitress wrote down my order: 3 eggs sunny-side up, 3 pancakes, a mountain of hash-browns, 3 sausage links and 2 orders of toast. Suddenly, I noticed the woman's face, her jaw dropped slightly, eyes wide. A true WHAT THE FUCK look on her face. I then noticed that everyone in the restaurant was staring at me. I'm sure they were wondering how a tiny 5'3", 130 pound woman was going eat this massive amount of food. At that moment I looked at myself. Taking inventory of my feet. It had become part of my routine during stops to take my shoes off so my feet had some rest from the rigidity and hardness of my bike shoes. I looked at my hands, legs and then my clothing. My hands were full of grime and oil from messing with my chain this morning. My raincoat had tire burns form tying it too close to the tire. I was wearing a humongous men's thermal sweater. The sleeves were rolled up multiple times and it hung just above my knees. I found it in a basket at Spoke'n Hostel in Mitchell, OR. At that moment I realized what I was doing was completely insane. Not just the enormous amount of food I was about to devour, or the fact that I looked like a homeless person. But this whole fucking thing. I had spent the last 15 miles in the rain and it was not letting up. It was going to rain into tomorrow. I still had another 100 miles before I reached my final stop that day.