but she breaks just like a little girl.

i had a really long day. and i should be sleeping.
or doing the product briefs that i am going to get up at 530ish to do tomorrow (that is just going to take away from my sleep). but instead i'm playing on my macbook and listening to music, because this is what i do at night in bed. i just (re)listened to Amber Rubarth's cover of Bob Dylan's Like a Woman. first of all, this is one of my favorite Dylan songs lyrically, and her cover is outrageously beautiful. *you should know I never have a second of all.

i was lucky to see Amber Rubarth in Boston a few months ago and was completely caught off guard by her. she is just cool. she's the kind of performer/person/soul you just want to be friends with. her songs are a lot about the dreaded V word... vulnerability. she puts little snippets of experiences and thoughts you'd never share into words that simply make it okay.

the girl is cool. and she's in the middle of achieving her dreams. i think it's an incredible thing to be able to watch someone as they are making it... like, literally, in it, in the thick of the great stuff.  i suppose i can say i've seen athletes in this moment, but i do love a musician who hangs on through and through, loving it the entire time. i saw Josh Ritter once in Seattle, he smiled the whole concert ear to ear, and you knew he was so happy because he was in it, he'd gotten there... and he's getting to do what he loves for his job. his mom was there and surprised him with cupcakes and the audience sang happy birthday (and i sort of wanted to marry him because of this insight into the the kind of family he comes from, and how sweet he was to his mom but that is neither here nor there). of the three times i've seen The National i leave feeling like i know each of the band members personally because of the emotion that is flooding the stage through the brilliant marriage of their words and music. "another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults." i mean seriously.... knock me right over.

anyway. I pride myself on being a bit of a music snob; i always check out daytrotter and pitchfork, i have friends who keep me in the know. but if you're looking for some good, honest songs for the heart, check out miss Amber Rubarth.
don't feel bad if you feel better listening to songs like the songs she writes and sings.
because i don't and i do.
xo,
cw



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Fuzzhead.

Fuzzhead was the name of the dog in the movie, "Ollie Hopnoodle's Haven of Bliss." This is a movie that 99% of the population has never heard of... but was a GEM in my family. It aired in 1988 on the Disney Channel, and is has only been referenced among myself, my two sisters and parents. If anyone out there has seen it, I'd be thrilled to know and frankly quite pleased to welcome you to my exclusive club... under the condition that you share and bring respect and admiration for this obscure flick. Ollie Hopnoodle's Haven of Bliss is a vacation tale of the family from A Christmas Story on their annual summer trip, and is written with perfect brilliance and humor in its efforts to do justice to hysterical and outrageous family dynamics.... the kind that make you pee your pants or at least think you might. Jean Shepherd, who co-created both films and is said to have based the Parker family largely on his life, also appropriately and perfectly narrates. You know this voice. Trust me. You've heard this voice if you've seen A Christmas Story, (which everybody has). And his voice is so, so perfect....  And confession... so perfect that sometimes (and yes this is a little loony), i hear his voice narrating over scenes from my family; most recently and currently the Wood Household, Thanksgiving 2009.

Within 2 minutes of coming home from the airport Thursday morning there were (what felt like) 33 things going on among 5 family members (6 including Quimby). Now, friends... I've debated on even trying to explain this because I think this is where storytelling in person does so much better justice than a written blog. I will try though, to paint a little picture of the perfect chaos that makes my family The Best. By paint a picture, I mean with no consistency or fluidity to certain snapshots of the past 2 days.

The kitchen chairs have all broken in the same place - the rung where people put their feet. (Well, every chair but mine has broken and I use this as a means to brag). With three grown children who are now back in the house for the holiday weekend and parents who have rotated the chairs after having the kitchen floors done, each of us were caught off guard by the noise and sudden fall of one of these rungs (that had been put back in), going out from under our feet (that we shouldn't be placing there because we're not 7). Picture a fork/arm/head falling 6 inches lower because this is the chain reaction of when your feet are up on something that goes out from under you. Make sense?

The bar that holds all the clothes in the hall closet collapsed. Wednesday night apparently. As Dad carried my suitcase to my bedroom because "clairebear you've GOT to take care of that shoulder" and yes my bedroom, still with pink walls and a twin bed, but also inclusive of furniture from a deceased great aunt (that belongs in an Ann of Green Gables Living room), he mentions this. He also casually mentions, "moms closet fell last week too. So i don't know what else or who else is gonna fall, but something's gonna happen." Classic Dave Wood, how i love my Dad.

Shampoo and Conditioner in the shower. Who bought it last time? Is Claire using Audrey's or is Emily using Claire's face wash because that stuff is expensive and seriously close the curtain all the way because that causes mildew and why are there not enough clean towels around here, honestly there are like 15 dirty ones in the hamper and I am hurrying Audrey, but Claire insisted on showering before me because she was in a sweaty sportsbra but she's the running weirdo who HAS to run before Thanksgiving and Claire you could help peel some potatos, Ok, says me, please don't yell from downstairs! By the way, close the lid to the saline solution girls, its just a good habit... asks Dad.

Quimby. Quimby is old, and I don't really want to talk about this, but Mom has a brilliant way of making her age backwards. There is always an upheaval over this, where Emily is the first to harshly remind Mom of when we got her, with Dad chiming in quietly supporting the statement. Audrey then not wanting to talk about it but Mom loudly commenting on how fast she'll run down the back deck stairs, but then admitting the following morning she checked on her twice in the middle of the night [true love]. Speaking of Quimby, she didn't poop on tonight's walk. This is a big deal. Are we sure she didn't? Yes Emily is sure, she walked her for 30 minutes she would know if she pooped, i mean COME ON. Audrey goes to check upstairs to investigate any rooms. And girls, you know when you take her on a walk you HAVE to pick it up. Yes, we know. Well, Claire, you used to not pick up Daphne's stuff... (interject Claire), umm yeah I was 11... and anyway, back to Quimby, her gas could give me a PERM.

The Family Room. Dad sits in a chair from the dining room in the family room because his back is bad and the couch is too soft, but Emily can't see over Dad's 6'3" inch self so is so close to Claire on the couch but Claire's foot is in Emily's face and both are like, "can you scoot over?" Audrey wants to know why everyone is talking but seriously we've all seen this rerun of NCIS and can't we watch the Heroes thing on CNN? Oh look OctoMom is being featured by Matt Lauer and Dad gets up because he "doesn't want to hear from this nutcase" and oh I love Matt Lauer soo much, Emily especially is a fan of his dynamic and camera presence with Meredith Viera and CAN EVERYBODY STOP TALKING PLEASE because we cannot even hear what he is saying! And by the way... why do we have 5 remotes?

Audrey is typing on her blackberry and seriously Audrey, this is the stuff you yell at Claire about and Good point Emily as Audrey gets up to finish her "memo" in the kitchen and Claire opens her macbook and Claire honestly that is the same thing as being on a blackberry and [insert mom] claire how much did you pay for that? [insert audrey] why do you have a mac (because audrey is the photographer and YES that's artistic but claire wanted a personal computer and treated herself to a macbook after resigning from Brooks okay?) and CAN EVERYBODY STOP TALKING PLEASE because we cannot even hear [what Matt Lauer] is saying.

This does my family no justice. This does the hilariousness, but also the genuine amazingness of my family no, zip, zero, zilch...justice. My Mom, My Dad, Audrey, Emily, and my Quimby Girl.  I love Virginia. I love that I have best friends I am so glad to come home to see, and i also love that i have a family i am glad to come home to and see. I love knowing that tomorrow as we drive to Maryland to see The Greene's, there will be arguments over who has to sit in the middle in the back, how the heat is too hot for Emily but Audrey is always cold, and Honestly Dave (says mom), you don't need to comment on every driver!


As I wrap up this blog, Audrey can be overheard as saying (and i quote) "I could do without the Wizard of Oz. Apart from Somewhere Over the Rainbow, its just creepy."


love. love. LOVE them. 
and i hope you feel the same about yours.
Happy Thanksgiving (as it continues into the weekend for many of us).
CW

There's a Polar Bear in our Frigedaire

Okay I lied. There's no polar bear.
However...
There are frozen cheeseburgers in our vending machine at work.
I saw this and gasped, but had to keep most of this to myself, because who knows who is buying these. I think it's disgusting. Vending machines are for pretzels, m&ms, granola bars and for the love, even a bear claw is fine.... but meat... yes, MEAT!? I can't blame the vending machine company because there is obviously a demand for this. I mean... otherwise they'd have a fruit cup instead, right?
I would NEVER make out with someone who buys cheeseburgers from a vending machine... is all i'm sayin.

hard to explain.

I am a big fan of disclaimers. I like to set the tone prior to launching into anything to make sure nobody has the wrong idea. So, that being said... I'll start out with a disclaimer: I have perspective. Huge amounts of it. I'm not going to type out why I have perspective, or give specific examples, but i'll just ask for you to take my word on this.  Please, and Thank You. Now, i'm going to complain a little.

I am a runner.
I am chronically injured.
Always on my left side.
They're just starting to figure it out... its complicated.

Ok so now that we realize I have perspective, and the above four sentences do not make my life horrible, as it could be way worse, and in the scheme of things [eh hem, 'things' being life] I can't complain [I know this], I decided to blog about this topic. Why? Because I am smart and patient about how i treat my body, and want to be able to run like I want to run. For years, I haven't been able to. I'm not obsessive about it, my life doesn't revolve around it, but I love it and definitely need it in my life for reasons that go way beyond physical conditioning. Yes, I ran in college. Yes, it was a HUGE part of my life then. Yes, I resent my college coach for training me overzealously, making me run way too much mileage and thus (I feel), never allowing me to reach my full potential due to overuse injuries and peaking at the wrong times. As a field hockey player turned runner very late in the game, I was so new to it all in college, I believed in the program, and I followed my training schedule. I've learned so much in the few years post college.... that I still have the bug to run some 5ks and 10ks, and i want to run them fast. I don't enter races, period. Because I am not able to train. Not train as in run 90 miles per week, but add in a workout, a tempo, or a Sunday long run; movement that would require me to run fast or sustained and push my body. I haven't done this because I can't do this... I have to baby this left leg and babying consists of really just running easy.

Yes. I can run. I run about 6-8 miles some runs, 4 miles others, and take days off entirely. I've been nursing this left leg for...  t-h-r-e-e years. November of 2006, ridiculous soleus pull coupled with plantar. Months later, calf went again. The following year it was all hamstring problems.  The problems in this past year have ranged from lower left back spasms, to chronic piriformus, calf, etc. I realize the lower part of the leg is merely a symptom of something wrong at the top (in the hip/glute/piriformus area).

Sidebar: I know this post is soooo boring. There's no flow, I'm spewing out facts likely of little interest to you, and I'm coming across like a spaz. But you know what, I just wanted to write it. Look, I didn't even use a question mark. I'm being selfish and not thinking of my readers (all 2 of you) :) Okay... back to the post....

Moving from Seattle to Boston in late January of 2009 (height of the back problem), resulted in me just letting things get better on their own and not having a network of good doctors. Our bodies are able to compensate in fascinating ways, hide a problem, and thus just hurt something else. Well that's what mine has been doing, and accomplishing brilliantly so. And as a result, this left side is just jacked up. (jacked up as in myofascial adhesions, etc). Through my boss and some connections I've been hooked up with some really really good Active Release Technique specialists, people who get runners, and people who are pretty interested in my case. I apparently have "the flexibility of a dancer but the muscle bellies of a mesomorph" (I wikipiedia's mesomorph and i didn't love the definition). Anyway, point is those two things don't usually go together.

So, if you've made in this far in the post... here's the deal, it's going to be a while. And that's okay, because I feel like I'm on the right path, getting the right help, and I just want to be able to wake up on a Saturday and go run a 5k under 18 then go on with my day.  I want to enter the Army 10 Miler and run faster than that day I did the infamous hilly Llama Loop in Harrisonburg talking to Jen Lapetoda the whole time comfortably in 65:08. That's what I want to do. I want to meet a friend for a run on a whim and not think the whole time about how my calf is about to bust out of the front of my shin, and land in 8 pieces on the sidewalk, or that continuous feeling I have that I'm dragging a weak leg and pins and needles all the time. It's not an issue of, "go to the gym and strengthen this thing," its an issue of certain muscles not firing, the wrong muscles bearing the brunt because others have shut down, and nerves being pinched. It's really hard to explain to 1) people who don't run 2) runner's who never get hurt.  I'm pretty quiet about my goals as a runner, and I work in an industry where everybody is always asking if I'm gearing up for anything. And that's a hard situation to be in, because no, I'm never gearing up for anything. I stay fit (knock on wood) via the running I can do, bikram yoga, and strength and cross training. I truly just avoid the question, as its really hard to explain, "i'm chronically hurt, i'm not an idiot, and yes, I've tried what you are about to suggest".

My life is busy. I have responsibilities and important people i care about and a demanding job, and well, life! I want to have my running interspersed in there... in a fun, not stressful, but stress relieving sort of way. I've been encouraged to continue doing the running I'm doing. As twice now in 5 months i've taken 5-6 weeks completely off, and there's no improvement. The running I'm doing now isn't further hurting this leg; i just can't do anymore than I'm doing. If that makes sense.

So in retrospect this post might be my worst. It goes to show you how bad i'd be at explaining this since its pretty terrible via a blog that I can edit, take time with, and reread. It's just hard to put into words. I need this thing... not like a pro needs it, but in the human being sort of way that keeps me centered, keeps me all good..... I am really looking forward to getting this leg set, out of the danger zone, out of the flare up zone, and being able to just get out there. Regardless if I don't run anymore or any harder than I am now, I want to get out there and not have to think about this left leg. No offense left leg, but you've been a real attention whore.                  

If you're a runner and you're reading and you're out there injury free.... appreciate it, please...
Yes, life can be worse. I know that. I am so thankful for everything and everyone in my life.
I'm thankful for the jogging I can do now, and look forward to the running I hope to do in 2010.
Here's to patience, and running shoes.... (because we all know that's what keeps me employed and happy).

**Kay Miller snapped this pic not knowing I was giving ole lefty a pep talk**

I heart the Monument.

So I was a bit annoyed driving up to park tonight because I found a spot, and abiding by laws, went around the block to turn the correct way down a 1-way street. During the 45 seconds that were passing, I thought to myself, "there's no way somebody can beat you to this money spot."

Somebody did. I was then cranky.
Then I found a new spot. And it was sorta far. And I had a lot of bags.

But then it was okay. Because the old spot wouldn't have let me encounter the beautiful, cool, totally in love couple taking freezing pictures up the monument stairs with their wedding party, shivering but laughing so hard.

The Bunker Hill Monument at night. Oh I love it. And i loved it a little more with the scene I saw. They're the sort of people I'd be friends with I think. At least judging by their mannerisms and laughs during my 60 second stalk. And I realize this is no means to make an assumption but many of my assumptions aren't fact based and they end up right. So, there.

Bottom line. I'm pretty sure they were great people. So they can borrow my Monument for their wedding album if they want.

CW

it's the best because its mine.

It's not a King. Or a even a Queen.
Or possess gazillion thread count sheets and pillows longer than I am tall.
It has an imprint on one side because I always have to face the door.
Its brown and blue or blue and brown, and when i'm really behind on laundry white and olive.
There isn't a stuffed bear on top of it. And when I say there isn't, it might mean there is. *I said might.

It''s plenty big for my 5'5 self and extra comfortable because it's mine.

I've been gone the last three weeks in NYC, Austin, and Naples Florida. I had a night home here and there in-between the three trips, but most recently had a horrible 24 hr something, so "home" wasn't really relaxing. Every trip was work related and for the most part excellent.... but completely exhausting. Each of these three trips is heavily tied to working hard, but staying out late over beverages and gigantic laughs. Its almost impossible to have an early night when some of your favorite people in the country are congregated in the same place... and by almost impossible i mean definitely and utterly.

I am lucky to work in an industry I'm passionate about, in a job that I love, and have people around me I really connect with. I'm lucky to get to see the results of my work in a tangible form, and to have mentors who want to see me succeed. I am lucky to have seen Meb win in NYC and to have my twin sister share an uber fun halloween in the big apple. I'm lucky to have grown up a swimmer and can teach a friend flip turns in Austin, and i'm lucky to have intense conversation about big life things over a 3-person dinner that started out tipsy and ended up seriously sober and filled with guacamole. I am lucky that Mary Miller was in Naples Florida and we had even an hour to catch up, to exchange laughs and little snippets with each other that say we get each other and are always, always, always there for one another. I believe in that girl more than I believe in life on another planet because give me a break we just found out there are like 400 more planets, so of COURSE that means i believe in her HUGELY.

I am lucky that I just spent 4 nights rooming with Jen Kelly (fine, who is now Jen Aldrich as of 60 days ago). I am lucky that New Balance lets product line managers room with Elite Sales reps and I am lucky that we can sweat while blow drying our hair and navigate around each other in a sister sort of way. I am lucky I can put on three outfits and ask if I look like an orphan from Annie because something about that cardigan looks like Pepper (or was it Mollie?) and I'm lucky that I can lay there half awake listening to one of my best friends tell me how she can't fall asleep because she is so, so, so excited for the movin and shakin that's going on in something that we are both a big part of.

I love the people I'm surrounded by. I love knowing my life is really great despite being an always injured runner  and this really bums me out (blog on this later). I love that my boss can rag on me constantly in an endearing, funny way, but can call me after a big day to tell me i just proved myself in front of a lot of people and this is why i'm here.

I love hand sanitizer and especially in the new spray form because I can offer it to my seat-mates on the plane without them having to actually handle it and i love watching 4 episodes of "Little People Big World" on TLC because I flew JetBlue.

I love that I have a work/life balance and yeah this post was a lot about work but the next one won't be.

I love making sure to appreciate things that I should.

Especially heading not to the Ritz Carlton plush Queen I was in this past week .... but into a full size bed that's the best because it's mine.

Family and the Flu.

Out of respect for the pigs, i'll continue to call it H1N1. With a name of Claire, i was destined to be a ClaireBear and a lover of all things bears, but i also did have an affinity for pigs as a wee one.

Back to H1N1. I came down with something RIDICULOUS (my choice verbiage that doesn't so much paint a picture), but whatever it was, it knocked me out. What was a chest cold last night erupted into the worst body aches i've ever experienced, (ok salmonella was worse last year in China), a fever, chills, sweats, and then an inability to get up off the floor due to horrendous leg cramping after blow drying my hair this morning. (this is when i finally became defeated to this 'bug' and called my boss that i'd be MIA in the office).  What about my sales meeting in Florida that I leave for in 2 days? All the work i'd put into the presentation, the new products for Fall 2010 we'd passionately reveal? What about rooming with Jen Kelly (one of my best friends who happened to take a rep job with NB before i thought i'd end up at the NB too), and, Mary Miller, Triathlete, IN Naples on "holiday" following her man's race in clearwater. What about all of that? Me being Captain Germaphobe (should be Sergeant) , I was also conscious of not being around my coworkers, as I would appreciate the same thing.

So I called my sister. She answered. And just like a trigger I started crying. Because that's what I do. I was sick, (i never get sick) i'm by myself, and i'm worried... and Emily turned her car around, when back into her apartment to get on the computer and get the number to my doctor. She has a house phone, so offered to keep me on the cell, and call and make sure the number found online was right, and when it was, she put the cell phone down and I could hear her asking on my behalf if they could fit me in.  This next part of the story is what makes family, family. Emily thought it'd be compelling to inflate the story, telling the nurse who answered that I had a fever OVER 103 and couldn't even get out of bed to call her, that my roommate did.

Not only did I have to embarrassingly debunk these erroneous facts once to the nurse, but a second time when the nurse asked that the resident on call come in and take a look at the case because whatever ravaged my energy and muscles for a 12ish hours was passing through, my temp coming down, and things looking normal. While being slightly humiliated tripping over my words explaining that I don't have a thermometer at home, and I know i had a really really high fever, but I cannot say how high, and that I could get up to drive here... it made me think (as i often do) how lucky i am to have my family as my family. And yes, that includes identical twin sister's who exaggerate with ease that it's scary, solely because the end goal was to get me into the doctor faster. They were going to see me anyway, I didn't need to have a temp close to 104 sis. but oh i do love you.


I babysat for four little girls a few times this summer. This experience deserves 18 separate blogs, but the family was up here because one of the little ones was fighting off a rare cancer that came back a second time. She was up here getting treatment at MGH, a new proton therapy that was hopefully the answer to this battle my darling little buddy is in. I sign in as my mom everyday to read her mom's site on her treatment progress, as she's back in VA and finished with chemo. I have never, ever, EVER met a more special 7 yr old in my life, and i'm certain she was like this before this never for a reason (in my opinion) challenge picked her. This precious girl, the definition of spunk and awareness, is sooooo much more than a 7 year old child...... (maybe more sometime later...).

When we were little kids my mom used to "energize us." What this encompassed was one of us three little girls would go up to my mom and say we were 'soooo tired and needed to be energized'. My mom would hold us in a hug, we leaned into her, and she'd make a lip smacking noise while squeezing us tight. It's so amazing to me, that as a kid, every time, I was re-energized and would run off to the next thing. I found myself "energizing" Shannon and her three sisters when I babysat them. They were giggling, cracking up, asking for it again and again. Inside my head all I thought was how awesome my Mom is. I told my Mom how I energized them, and she lit up, and said, "thank you for reminding me of that Claire." It makes me teary eyed to think of this.

My Dad has started texting in the last year. I texted him this past Sunday, (the night we always check in), that I was swamped and would call when back from Austin. 5 minutes later I receive, "Great! Love, Dad". This text is special on many levels. 1) it probably took him 5 minutes 2) he signs texts, (just like he did instant messenger when we were in college), as though it were a letter.

I started this blog out about a flu scare (conclusion, it's likely a less than 24 hr muscle bug), but my point is... my family is the best. My older sister won't even know i had an H1N1 scare, as she's literally got a phobia of getting sick, and i love her too much to tell her. Maybe over thanksgiving :) After all, it wasn't until 2 days after the fact that my mom informed her i'd been projectile vomited on while a plane last summer. My mom took so long to get it out, Audrey was so scared something truly awful was happening and I had to intervene and just spill.

So anyway.
Wash your hands friends, keep hand sanitizer easily accessible, and do NOT sit on public toilets (we were engineered with quad muscles to hover).
I abide by all of these rules, and encourage the company I keep to do the same.

Here's to sanitary living and solid solid families for when a germ might getcha,
CW

The feeling of being stared at.

You’re in your car, and you just sense someone is looking at you ; You’re in a meeting, and for some reason, decide to look up precisely at the moment someone is staring right at you.. or maybe it’s the other way, and you get caught staring at somebody else? If you’re me you try to play it off, forge ahead and simply tweek your eye focus a little off center from that person, so that they think it might be something behind them. (Shoot, here I go spilling my secrets). Anyhow, I did a Google search on what exactly explains this. I mean I figured it was something scientific like why yawns are contagious or why we get tired when it’s raining outside. I thought the feeling of being stared at must be explainable as it is such a frequent phenomenon that it has to be easily explained via the incredible world of science.

The events that spawned my interest in solving the occurrence came from this past weekend while in NYC. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the “industry” happenings in a bar we all frequent, amidst the loud conversation, laughter and drinks being ordered and finished, I could just feel someone looking at me. I turned around, and while it wasn’t at all in a weird way, said person was looking right at me…. and I caught them. I tested this phenomenon out this week as my boss sat at the counter near my desk flipping through magazines. I stared at him a while, his eyes completely not within range of seeing me, even in his peripheral vision. And what happened? He looked up.

So, in my quest to find out the answer to this via some intense Google searching, what I found out is that the feeling of being stared at is not scientifically explained. Not at all. In fact, it’s even debated by many that it doesn’t exist, and is a merely a coincidence. WHAT !? I was relieved to find that there is a book, The Sense of Being Stared At, written by Rupert Sheldrake. In his intro he talks about “an influence being passed from the observer to the observed, and the observed can feel it.” His argument is widely debated, and there are all sorts of theories that include such opinions that this sense isn’t real, that it is paranormal (seriously?!), that it is a level of higher awareness, or that it simply isn’t able to be explained. Unable to be explained? Hello goosebumps!

I find this sort of stuff FASCINATING. How could one argue that this isn’t something that happens? Perhaps these people are just the dramatically socially unaware and oblivious to things outside of their immediate space? But isn’t it far too common of an occurrence?

I read another excerpt from Sheldrake’s book online. (thanks to my Macbook and sleeping woes last night), and it’s also been proposed that certain energies can be emitted and transferred to other people, in this particular case, staring. I personally love this theory – invisible, intangible energy. Love it. I am too often driving/walking/running by streetlamps that go off. Constantly, to the point where I don’t talk about it because it’s creepy and sounds completely insane. (so now I’m just publishing this on the world wide web – good job Claire). I won’t go into it, as I don’t subscribe to many of the theories behind it, but let’s just say this is also something talked about… hmmm.

It makes me wonder what is out there and is really occurring,  but is unsolved because it’s invisible or not pure science, but theorized to involve the human consciousness and energies. I once almost named a shoe at Brooks the “Turiya” (Hindu for a level of “pure consciousness”). It’s believed that some people posses this additional layer, this elusive level of consciousness as they say.

Anyway. I’m so far from a science nerd it’s not even funny. In fact, I’m the exact opposite – a student of the arts, a lover of philosophy. That said, maybe its mixing science with passion that I do believe in certain cosmic energies that bring things together, cause “person to person” collisions, and are instrumental in the way life unfolds from the little things all the way to the big. I’ve heard unbelievable stories of such chance encounters and I’ve personally experienced such things that I can’t deny believing in such “energies” that impact life’s choreography. Sounds a little farfetched I know… but I do believe.

CW