Soy una hija unica

"Soy una hjia unica"...For those of you that don't speak spanish, or attempt at it as i do being a total gringa, this means I am an only child. Now, I know what you are thinking based off the stereotypical norms of this status. "She's spoiled rotten", or for every sarcastic response I've ever gotten from people I know, "Oh, that explains it"! Well, you know what? It does explain it. I was born to two hard working parents that probably wanted more children to begin with, then decided against the notion after having me. I was a handful. I was everywhere and into everything from the second i could move freely. I don't think much has changed.

Now, I wasn't the strange only child that grew up with multiple imaginary friends that still come to visit her from time to time. I was the kid that grew up learning from my own experiences. Those experiences usually involved the smearing of toothpaste on bathroom tiles and crayon drawings on the freshly painted walls of my aunt and uncle's house (what can i say? I was a young Picasso). I developed a taste for the finer things in life at an early age, like half 'n' half. I used to drink 7 or 8 capsules in a single sitting at restaurants like it was going out of style. I was a master of hide and seek. This was mostly due to the fact I had no sibling rilvary that could result in the disclosure of the most coveted and creative hiding spots in my house (I once zipped myself inside a suitcase for the better part of an hour). And of course, there was always the accidental breaking of mom's valuables while rollerblading through the house that I never got away with (when you are left with only the dog to blame, your case doesn't hold up very well!).

I loved being an only child, but I guess I never knew the difference in not having siblings. I always wanted someone else to play with at home, or someone to pester in the car during week-long road trips to Florida. Instead, if no one else was around, it was me, myself, and I. From this came a form of independence and a fearless sense of adventure. When presented with an opportunity to travel abroad for the first time at the ripe age of 13, it wasn't "Should i go?", "How far away is it?" or "How long will i be there for?"...it was, "How can we pay for it? Can I fundraise?". This sense of adventure I owe to the two individuals who have always urged me to see not only what's in my own backyard, but what the rest of the world has to offer, even if they haven't experienced it for themselves. Always putting me first, this is a thank you to my parents, the providers of all that is wondrous to me in this lovely world.

Going Green

Things are green, this is strange. My eyes are used to the matted brown tones of desert landscape and the occasional greens of tree lines. Much like my mountain man blood, my eyes must acclimate to this new area. My familiarity of dust and dry heat is currently being overpowered by lush vegetation and moisture...rolling hills of green, bordered by the most hypnotic purple flowers you've ever seen. And the smell! It's amazing! The fragrant smell of the wild flowers that fills my coop while cruisin these san diego suburbs is intoxicating. It definitely beats the long lingering smell of ranch land manure that I suffered through just to get to this point. Well worth it though.

And without a single cloud gracing this blue bird sky, I smile. I'm lucky...to be able to see this candescent landscape, smell the aromatic buds of flowers I can't even name, and simply put...just be alive. Life is good green.

Overlooked

I'm constantly daydreaming of my next expedition in this world. And without a doubt, it's always transatlantic. What new place can i set foot on? What authentic cuisine can i try even with knowing the potential risks involved? What basic terms of a new language can I master after only hours, days, or weeks of repetition in a new country? I guess the reason I feel such a gravitational pull to other parts of the world is because I'm drawn to the unknown, unpredictable, and unfamiliar.

I've realized though, that in the days I spend researching far away worlds and how i will pay for these overseas adventures, I overlook the amazement of places nearby. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm out and about doing everything I possibly can in the free time I do have. If you can board it, hike it, or climb it in a day's time I'll do it! Yet, when it comes to planning trips I guess you could say I set my sights high, and far away. I dream of places like Thailand and Argentina when I haven't even seen the depths of National Parks within my own state. There is so much to see in this world, in the U.S., and even in Nevada that has yet to grace my eyes and leave an imprint in my mind.

I know the desert landscape well. I've lived it for the past 11 years, but it never fails to amaze me the secrets the desert keeps hidden within it's windblown rocks and sandy valleys. While visiting my parents in Vegas this week, we planned a day hike near Lake Mead. Currently I live near Lake Tahoe, so trying to compare the landscape is difficult when your bias leans towards the place you live and love the most. We set out on a 4 mile trek with a group through the desert. We scored the massive rock dunes by hand and foot, leaving no trace behind but windblown footprints in sanded crevices. The red desert rock blazes like fire showing the signs of it's age by the layers within which things lived. Camel prints and bird tracks emerge like blooming flowers in the layered rock, giving a prehistoric time stamp to a land that was once conjoined to other continents. This desert graveyard yielded more historical fruit than the dozens of hike's I've taken in the high sierra range. Sure it's desolate and barren, but it's beauty in the rawest form....beauty that can be seen in your own backyard.

Rubber to Asphalt

There's something about packing my bags and leaving my bedroom behind in shambles that makes my heart tick. Whether it's a planned vacation or last minute road trip to visit the parents in Vegas, the adrenaline that awaits me once i take off in air or put rubber to asphalt never seems to disappoint. Even the prelude to my travels makes my blood pump...it's the mental checklists of what will make the final cut for my next excursion or not, and the moments i circle the house for the third time making sure i have everything i need. I will never be a "homebody", it's not in my blood. I was born to travel, and i won't die happy until I see this world. This addiction drives me to jam pack every free moment i have with anything I can. I had this week off from work...and the rest of the world, so my roomy and I packed our bags last minute, loaded up my two door civic prepared for any situation we may encounter and headed due south to Vegas.

The drive in itself is an adventure. If you've never been to Nevada, then this might be hard to understand. It's one of the only places I've ever seen that stretches on for miles without the slightest signs of civilization. In the 500 mile road it takes to get from Reno to Vegas one will see very few things, but all of them unlike anything you will see anywhere else. In the handful of towns you make acquaintance with during the single lane highway expedition you are sure to see these sights: abandoned cars (people often mistake the length they will drive before seeing the nearest gas station), ghost towns (they exist, I swear! They even have names and current populations under 20), brothels (that's right ladies and gentlemen, for those of you that don't know the better part of deserted Nevada, you will find more than 5 whorehouses in that 500 mile stretch. Most of them are in the middle of nowhere...and it's a long way to drive for a guaranteed piece of you know what!), wild horses (the most amazing element in all the desert, they run wild and are rare, but can be spotted), and abandoned mines (caution and danger signs now reside in the mouth of these once lively shafts that made Nevada what it is today, the "Silver State"). It never fails to amaze me how much open land and how much history there is in this state i call home.

Sadly, a majority of people will never see this crazy, dirty, and dusty beauty that keeps the west wild. Nevada is more than neon flashing lights...believe me, they make for quite a sight after an 8 hour night drive through the desert, but behind the slot machines, blackjack tables, strippers, and crazy times is beauty in this state that goes undiscovered by the common tourist. It may be raw, dirty, need to be dusted off or boarded up, caught in the glimpse of an eye, or seen through a rearview mirror, but it exists in the straight shot of a desert highway...it's Nevada.

A Need for Normalcy

This piece is about a young African man living in the United States trying to make a life for himself. During his 5 years in the states he has encountered problems in obtaining a work visa and green card. He came to the U.S. on a student visa that expired more than 3 years ago. After several failed attempts to obtain a green card via work and falsified marriage, he continues to live illegally, hoping that one day his goal of living the "American Dream" will come true. Since this video was completed in August 2009, he has moved several times in avoidance of immigration law, but still manages to make the most of everyday he is given here in the states.