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Les yeux sont aveugles, il faut chercher avec le coeur.

The eyes are blind, you must look with your heart

2 August 1986
Dear World,

Happy People enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Love, Self

One day, while lost and searching for a familiar road, a friend of mine and I drove by a church sign that read "Happy people enjoy the scenery on a detour." As we had just commented on being lost and how not-upset-at-all we were about it, the sign seemed strangely apropos. I try to remember it during life's ups-and-downs, as I'm often forced to detour from what I considered the correct path.

I read a lot. I take on projects when I'm already swamped- simply because I cannot tell people "no". I like to sing to people, around people. I fall in love easily- with people, with projects, with music, with ideas and ideals.

I love MUSIC- I used to perform with a touring group. One of my first ever performances on a stage was Carnegie Hall. It was exciting and the one thing I miss the most in my life. I'm hoping 2010 will find me joining a local group.

In the same vein, give me a musical and I'll be happy. RENT, Avenue Q, The Last Five Years, They're Playin' Our Song. . . I'm in love. I don't have the tenacity or vocal range to perform them, but I can belt La Vie Boheme and Schadenfreude with the best of 'em!

In my free time, I like to travel to nearby renaissance faires as some of my best friends live across state lines and share the same love. I offer my loft as crash space for travelling and local friends in need as well.

The end of 2009 brought with it the end of many chapters of my life: I graduated college cum laude in Anthropology and ended my employment at a cinema and university office- two jobs that markedly shaped me into who I am today. I was kicked off of my parents insurance- a move which necessitated my entering the "real world" work force.

These days, I am job searching, soul searching, and generally searching for my path. Mostly, though, I'm smiling and trying to enjoy this detour.


Les yeux sont aveugles. Il faut chercher avec le coeur.


All that is gold does not glitter, not all who wander are lost


Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay