It's sort of funny the way writing works. You'd think the less you write, the more you'd have to ramble on about when you do finally get started. However, it isn't so. The less you write, it seems the harder it is to get started and the less you feel you have anything worth sharing.
Forgive me as I trudge along through these rough beginning words...it seems it's been awhile since my fingers have graced the keyboard and written any sort of daily ramble in a very long while.
"Why has it been so long?" You ask. Well, honestly...I think it's because I haven't felt worthy of sharing anything. I feel like lately, Jesus has been taking me through a lot of things. He's been teaching me a bunch, and I guess I felt to write about it would seem like a 10 year old trying to give advice on how to be a good parent.
I think mostly, I've been growing up and I haven't quite known how to verbalize everything I've been going through.
Currently I work at a post production studio in Santa Monica CA named Method Studios. They're a popular Post Production Special Effects studio for both commercials and feature films. One of my favorite commercials they've done is this one: (an oldie but a goodie!)
I work as a night Receptionist/Administrative Assistant to the Recruiting department, Operations department, Client Services department...you name it. Basically whenever anybody needs some data entry done or excel spread sheets made pretty - I do it. I like my job, I'm good at it and I enjoy being surrounded by such awesome artists.
Generally I work from 4pm or so to around 11:30pm. I get home close to 1am (it's a little over an hour drive) and without fail as I'm driving down Orangethorpe Ave headed for Lakeview Ave, I nearly always drive along side a train. I cannot even begin to tell you what emotions this has stirred inside of me. Maybe it's because it's 1:00am and I'm delusional, maybe it's because I'm just homesick...but without fail, I have flashbacks or memories of being little Christi living on Elmdale Rd. in Clarksville, MI.
Our multi-acre garden on Elmdale Rd.
Here I was around 7 yrs. old - enjoying the summer sunshine...
I think we moved from this house a year or so later.
The train driving along side me seems so out of place in Yorba Linda, CA. I can't help but be transported back to those innocent days on Elmdale Rd.- placing pennies on the railroad tracks and hiding in the bushes for hours with the neighbors until the train would pass and we could collect our flattened treasures. Walking down the train tracks with my mom and Nicci until we reached the little town of Clarksville...
We'd go inside the hardware store to look through the VHS movies the'd have for rent and to get a 10 cent gumball from the old candy dispenser. Fun fact, I literally remember the day the gumball machine started charging 25 cents instead of 10 cents. It was a sad day. Then maybe we'd walk across the street to the library and I'd get to pick out another Box-Car children book, or perhaps we'd have hair cut appointments at the run down salon which smelled of perm solution on old ladies. Or maybe, maybe we'd even go walk to the grain elevator and as my mom would talk to the owners, Nicci and I would eat peanuts out of the giant wooden barrel that sat next to the counter.
The little Clarksville Library
Clarksville Bible Church - The church my family attended for years
Looking back, it feels like I grew up in a small town frozen in "the good ol' days" - a sunny place, a sort of 1940's place...a good place to grow up I guess. I'm sure my mom would have a different take on things. Perhaps my little Christi memory is quite off, I'm not sure. Maybe I make it out to sound too precious. But, whatever the case...these are my memories and these are the thoughts that come flooding to me at 1:00am in cement laden, palm tree ridden, Southern California.
I haven't quite known how to process these memories or thoughts, so usually I just end up bawling my eyes out the rest of the way home. It's not that I want to go back to these times, It's not that I'm regretting moving to California...it's just...I haven't known how to incorporate these memories or thoughts into...for lack of better wordage..."the new Christi."
How does a small town girl with a modest upbringing suddenly find herself working alongside some of the most talented filmmakers and artists in the industry? It all seems like a blur. I'm not quite sure myself. How do I still hold onto these memories but move forward in an obviously completely different direction? How do I incorporate the old with the new? It's been an interesting transition. You add into that the sudden realization that I won't be able to raise my kids anywhere near my family or close to the upbringing that I had...and...well...as you can imagine, it's been an emotional roller-coaster these past weeks. Hence why I haven't known "how" or even "what" to write.
I think this emotional time has been very important in my transition however. Moving out to California isn't just a "dream" anymore - it's reality now. It's a solidified choice. It's life. It's not just all fluff and bubbles and smiles anymore...the grass isn't completely greener on the other side. In fact, come to think of it, the grass has to be watered over here to be green. The word "illusion" comes to my mind.
With this choice though, has come beautiful things.
Over and over James and I have referred to ourselves as "transplants." I'd like to write out something that he recently wrote in a letter to me:
"...we're two peas in a pod, two similar stocks from different lands seeking to transplant our lives and start a beautiful adventure."
I think if I hadn't moved to California I wouldn't have found the rest of me. I would have always been a little tree in Michigan...wondering what other kinds of trees there were beyond the maples and oaks that surrounded me. I think there would have always been that longing for something "more" I so often felt before I left. Honestly, that longing is complete now.
I now view myself as a little oak tree settled in-between the palm trees that surround me. I'm different, I'm a transplant, I'm not like the others. Will I ever morph into a palm tree? No. Will I ever fully blend in? No.
But, I think I like it that way though.
I'm learning how to live like a little oak tree in the middle of all these palms and I'm extremely grateful and blessed beyond words to have found a "similar stock", a fellow oak tree...to put down some roots with and to grow next to. He's helped me more in this transition than I could even begin to put down into words. I'm so grateful that Jesus saw fit to bring us together and I'm so grateful that James has had such an amazing amount of grace and patience with me as I've been learning and growing through this emotional time.
So, what's next for me? What's next for us? Well, I'm going to continue to work at Method and in a couple months James is actually headed up to San Francisco (about 7 or so hours from me) to work and take a 4 month animation class. HE'S GOING TO BECOME AN ANIMATOR! What he's always wanted to do. (I'd say that's an amazing coincidence because I LOVE ANIMATION.) I'm incredibly excited for him and can't wait to see what this chapter in life brings :) He's an amazingly talented artist and I'm proud to be the girl that gets to hold his hand.
Here's to these next months and the adventure that we're now sharing together! Pray for us as we step into another transition time with him being far away for a couple of months. I think it will be a precious time that will draw us closer together despite the distance.
I'm going to end this blog post the most appropriate way I know how...with Pixar and scenes from my favorite animated film they've done yet - UP.
"Adventure Is Out There!" What's your adventure, friends? Have you found it yet? This is my life adventure and I'm glad I can share it with all of you.
