Big Bear City

I wouldn't so much call Big Bear a city as I would an enchanted little village tucked away in the San Bernardino mountains. The fact that the town is made up of quaint mom n' pop shops and cafes only adds to its charm. For me, the enchantment lies within the wooden walls of my sister's cabin. She used the era of its erection (being the 1960's) as inspiration for furnishings and decor. This is my sister's special place. She loves everything in this cabin, down to the very candlestick. Anyone who has ever had the privilege of staying here can feel the love she has for this place, and that is what makes it enchanting for me. 

I don't think many people can really say they love everything in there home. In my opinion this creates internal discord. I constantly feel a bit unsettled by the awkwardness of my home. My respite from which, lies within the confines of my headphones. My secret place swims down the streams of minor chord progressions. Its carried on the backs of dissonant voices and takes me to the places I want to be.

During this particular weekend my secret place was illuminated by the sounds of St. Vincent's Strange Mercy album and Gandalf's 2.

The weekend went as follows...

Breakfast: Martha Stewart's Spinach & Gruyere Cheese Quiche

Chili cook-off with Haley's parents at Big Bear Lake

I was designated golf cart driver for the event

Alice and Ruth making their way up "Magic Mountain"

Heading down the Alpine Slide

Broke for ice cream

Go carts were a blast. I got in trouble twice for ramming into 

everyone as I made my way to the front!!!

The night ended with homemade street dogs. 

We wanted to bring a bit of LA with us to the mountains.

The sweetest part of the weekend was written on the gentle whisperings of our confessing lips and the flutter and flux of our feminine hearts. I will forever cherish these times among my friends.

Girls Camp

For one week of every summer since I was 12 years old, I attended "girls camp." This camp is put on by the Young Women's department of my church. The purpose of which is to get away from the world, bond with other girls and ideally God. This year was quite different for me. This year I was returning to camp, not as a girl, but as Young Women's President of the Hollywood ward. 

Here is me at camp, age 15

(Cut me some slack, it was the mid 90s and I was listening to Beck's Mellow Gold album on repeat)

I was captivated by the girl with the blue hair so I made her my friend. We went swimming, and that's when I noticed a swastika scared into her upper arm. Naturally I asked her how it came about but that is her story to tell. These were the type of girls I've always sought out as friends, completely out of control, yet still attending church camp?? Torn individuals to say the least. I guess I was attracted to the opposing energy within them. I liked not knowing what was coming next.

I found a tiny picture of me in a canoe wearing a red bathing suit from the 60s with cutoff boyscout pants and a vintage life vest. Talk about Moonrise Kingdom. I guess little has changed in terms of my taste in clothing.

Here are some shots from this years camp. 

(Lisa and I with the girls from our ward)

(Getting crafty)

(A baby mouse that was inevitably fed to the ranger's pet snake)

How did camp with girls from inner-city Los Angeles differ from any other experience I've had in the past? I'll answer that with a few scenarios from this trip.

1. Many of them did not know how to swim. 

2. Most of them wore short shorts and tank tops v. knee length shorts and sleeved shirts. 

3. One diva brought 6 pairs of shoes in her rolling luggage bag and 2 sequins throw pillows. 

4. One girl kept asking for alcohol wipes from the first aid kit to clean her septum piercing. 

5. One girl asked for something harder than Advil to sooth her cramps. (Someone has been in their mother's medicine cabinet)

6. The girls from the Korean ward were hilarious. Every time someone would miss the archery target, they would say (with a stereotypical Asian accent), "You do dishonor to your family!"

These girls have suffered trials I could never fathom at that age. I have a deep love and respect for each one of them. I am so grateful to be able to get to know them individually.

Dead Snow

I've visited two concentration camps, Dachau and Auschwitz. Before entering both sites, it was anticipated there would be tears of deep remorse, a small connection between past and presence that would allow us as visitors to feel some tiny portion of the pain and suffering of its captives.  My mother speculated feeling a spiritual presence. Possibly a negative one. With that in mind I went in paying extra close attention to my feelings along with the atmosphere around me.

Dachau

Despite the location, one funny thing did happen while in Dachau. My oldest brother Adam who is approximately 6'3" 250lbs was wearing a Punisher t-shirt under an opened jacket. Some wide eyed little boy kept starring at my brother until he mustard up enough courage to walk up and ask, "Hey mister, are you the real Punisher?"

Auschwitz

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First testing site of 'Zyklon B' 

Execution site/memorial

Women's washroom after trial/before execution

The victims were to remove all prosthetics, braces, 

spectacles and any other personal belongings.

The only part of the tour that truly brought tears to my eyes

 Children's shoes filled multiple rooms

Being completely honest, I've never been to a place that felt so completely empty and absent of any spiritual presence. This lead me to the idea that if I had suffered in such a place and then died, the moment my spirit separated from its body I would have fled and never returned. I would have sought refuge, peace, comfort and family. I would be anywhere but here. These people (or spirits of people) are gone. Presently this place is just earth and buildings. All that is left is a memory handed down from generation to generation. The holocaust is not in this place, but in us.