Heartbeats and Grooves
It's a life I put on the shelf that is time to return to more fully again one track at a time.
Some of you may know that I've been in the journalism and writing space for a decade. Some of you may not know it.
When I came to Los Angeles back in 2008, I came because I... had actually been starting another life.
I'd been married previously. Technically, I would still be married when I moved initially to Los Angeles.
I came to Los Angeles with hope and pain. I didn't know what would happen in the next chapter. I'm still learning what would happen.
It would be here in Los Angeles (I say here because I have returned again after being in the Bay for a year but still escaping back when possible) that I would solidify my path and desire towards writing and journalism even more than the brief entry points I had while previously while married and living in San Diego.
I've lived and died several times.
A friend once referred to me as a comic book character called Aphrodite Nine because of this very thing. It wouldn't be the first comic reference nor the last. The name I chose and evolved to was also serendipitously shared with a comic character.
Sometimes nature chooses because it chooses.
Still others have said I was Ramona Flowers in the flesh.
Some have said I was a bit Amelie... a movie which would be ever so dear to me over the continuum.
A lover once likened my being and writing to Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury."
There is a linear connection with all of it.
A record done right is a harmony of tunes and beats and grooves ebb and flow.
Or at least perhaps I hope so?
Maybe?
Like my father*, I've always seemed to have some form of writing device in my hand. I would find in the days that followed my marriage, and a path towards finding and rekindling the fire I once had in my eyes before my marriage exhausted it, in writing with a propensity for journalism.
My early days of this journey and first return to self were in forms of journalism. It was a natural flow for me. I had done it in high school as well too. The stories, particularly those with heart, have always been what I have gravitated towards. It seems that most everything I've touched has had some basis in history or embedded presence in my life in some regards. It has been a way to subliminally connect with connections I've made throughout my tenure.
Video games were my escape as a child and would be as an adult as well. Before moving to Los Angeles, I did some light video game journalism work early on in its heydey. I covered a couple of games that are either still barely in existence or no longer completely. This start of a step towards an independent life was the end of my marriage. The pieces I wrote were under my then married name and monikers that noted this pop of a cherry into another world which... would be names and pieces that would fade into obscurity even more than the games themselves.
Things evolved and grew with the move to Los Angeles post my divorce. I'd meet people and do quite a bit of ghostwriting (a thing that has its own stings of irony in it as a practice as well as an identity marker and professional makeup), marketing (a seemingly natural flow and tune for a girl new to a city with a pen and at the early stages of discovery), web copy (for various loves which some have been lost into ether and some...), content (the queen or princess or bastard of the internet)... and more journalism. It would be primarily alt journalism imbued with the colors that have been part of my life in overlapping corporate ways that...
It was a natural path for me.
Perhaps even more natural than the things that I attempted outside of it.*
There are reasons why I'd feel like this... this inaccurate statement questioning my own [natural state]* which was and is indeed as mine and me as the writer of this, those pieces then, the pieces in the future, and... the stories inevitably hopefully to come.
I buried that fire within me for a bit.
A fire was buried because that was demanded of me.
By people that never should have been given that power to begin with.
But just like my initial skit into gaming and writing then in the wake of that divorce and turned page, the first real bit since my high school days and realizing yet again that I was always that fire, I am back there yet again having lived pieces of yet another life that...
Sometimes I wonder if I was a failure with those things.
Of being the one in the family.
Of being married or possibly falling in [redacted] or something even resembling a connection that could be anywhere near a drip of it.
Of...
But then I think about the rest of it.
Of what I gave up.
Of what I...
I'm returning back to the beat. After a slumber of what feels like a long time and perhaps another life. All of these lives lived are part of the heartbeat that has not stopped yet.
I'm pounding the digital pavement again with a fury and pushing harder with things full-time hustle.
Hit me up if you've got something. By now, hopefully, you know where to find me.
Or at least pieces of the current iteration.
