With a Kite I was set free

Everyone has bad days...I know most people have good days and they just kind of end but You always remember the really amazing days. I think it's because we reach a level of freedom that we yearn for everyday.

I like to look at my life as organized chaos. No one understands me and when they try they end up confused even more. I stopped trying to explain myself because even I dont know what I am going to do at any given time. (For example, I have started and stopped this blog 4 times now to pluck my eyebrow. Yes. One. The right.) I just do...Meaning if it's what feels right I do it. I tend to be the clown of my friends b/c well...I am often sadder than i appear but making others laugh just feels good. I am a giver...I am not very good at taking yet not so long ago, I had the best day of my adult life and the person responsible will probably never know how grateful I am because with a single day of kite flying...My life changed.

There are people that are introduced to your life and you never quite know their role. They are re-occuring actors in this thing called life but they never really play a main role. I have several of these people but there is one that...I just dont get. In another world we may have been soulmates and we just...yeah...anyways...Not too long ago I hung out w/this person. We went to the High on what I thought was just another Wednesday off of work. We stopped at the automobile exhibit first and I thought my day was made there. Being able to see the amazing cars from yester-year and watch the evolution of one of my obsessions/hobbies was enough to suffice my expectations of a good day, but being as though that was the first stop...the museum had a lot to live up to. We walked floor after floor, observing, and sharing facts, opinions, and jokes. I stared at statues that made me feel, if just for a moment, that I was staring at a human that just turned to stone similar to Lot in the Bible. Hours passed and he made a statement to inform me I was the first person that had walked the museum with him that wasnt ready to leave after an hour. Now dont get me wrong, my 5inch heeled BCBGs were definately reminding me that I did not have on walking shoes..yet it didnt matter. The art begged me to continue. And I did just that. Floor after floor, intricate corners, and sectioned off rooms...I wanted to see it all. I have never understood my obsession with art of any kind. It's as if I forget who I am and allow myself to get lost in pieces that may have no meaning, but for me in those minutes I look over, examine, study, and stare...it's my piece.

I've always expressed myself well verbally. Maybe not in a scholarly manner but definitely well enough where you feel where I am and what I am describing...That is my art. Words. Often times though, words dont always get said and my "art" goes unpublished, unaccounted for, and the very worst, forgotten by the would-be author for fear of what the response be. And so I look at art...and envy them (the artist) for letting what is in them out.

This day we walked and talked. Discussed many issues as we regularly do for hours. When we were done at the museum, he asked that I join him at Park Tavern for a late lunch. I obliged b/c I thoroughly enjoy his company that much.

When we arrived at the park he carried to awkward shaped containers and when i asked him what they were he smiled w/childlike eyes and told me they were kites. We were going to fly kites.

Now understand that I am a person you cant help but to notice, but when it comes to how others perceive me...Well I am normally considered reserved yet vocal or the wildchild w/boundaries. My entire life is full of opposites and yet amazingly...It makes sense to me.

I explained to him that I would watch him but I was not going to fly a kite. That is just not something that I, Joselyn, would do. I had my mind made up that it was childish and I would not participate. It didnt feel appropriate to have intellectual conversation with my adult friend and then moments later run around in a park flying parrot and dragon kites.

There was no telling him no. The kites were put together, my heels were parked in the grass, and all I felt now was the moist grass inbetween my toes. I stared the parrot eye to eye...then the wind blew and the parrots beak attacked my face and I was ready to quit. I felt like I looked like an idiot and felt like one for not knowing how to get the kite in the air...I mean the wind blew enough for the kite to attack me, yet not enough for it to take wind.

I slumped my shoulders and watched my friend fly his kite. It went higher and higher and as the kite went further and further up, his smile grew just as much.

I felt it again...The same feeling I felt at the museum. Not the appreciating of art, but the envy of the fact that my friend was doing something that brought him joy, and I was miserable.

I set my shoulders back and looked at my parrot...This bird was gonna fly. Wind or no wind.

The first few times my kite went up I felt this amazing air in my chest, granted you cant help but to notice my breast, it wasnt them that had my chest up higher. I was excited! I was proud! I suck at flying kites but I realized that the further up my kite went and the more control I gained...I felt free.

I didnt care what anyone thought around me. Everytime the parrot nose-dived into the grass I ran right after it and got it back in the air. Our kites almost got tangled a few times but just like us in real life they remained within safe distance.

We lost track of time, it didnt matter b/c we were having fun. We held no conversation during this time outside of the pestering each other about..well how bad I sucked.

The wind died down and we finally went to eat. We held more conversation and I'd be lying if I said I stopped thinking about the kites. Eventually we parted ways and my friends laughed at me when I told them that I wasnt going to speak to anyone until the next day b/c I didnt want to give anyone the opportunity to ruin my amazing day.

It is now 5 months later and as I type this on my phone I keep crying. Though you would think that it's because I am typing this on my phone and my thumbs are now numb...I cry because after this day I have allowed people to see me fuck up. I have allowed myself to make mistakes publically so that others can learn from them. I dont want to pretend anymore. Pretending went out of the door when I was hit in the face with a parrot kite.

I may not be completely free, and although I could keep typing...I am going to end it here. I just thank him so much...

With the flight of a kite, my life changed.