Found footage - 2006 concert in Stockholm, Sweden with my trio, "The Black Sheep girls." This was at the end of a long 3-month tour throughout Europe

mein tag war sehr interessant...

All in all, it's been a pretty interesting day.

Dressed mildly for Spring only to be caught in a snow flurry.

Ended up being interviewed on local TV and I spoke German
understandably.

Was walking my bike across the crosswalk when a car stopped for me...
a second later the car behind him crashed into him.

I gave my first real help to tourists, at least 3 minutes worth - entirely in German on where to go to have an inexpensive lunch - nearby and how to get there exactly.

I found a 10 Euro bill at the Supermarket and paid for half of my groceries, mainly gifts for frieds & family in the US next week.

About the only downside (other than the poor suckers who crashed their cars and my cold Spring-like jacket) for some reason my key to get into the building didn't work.

Luckily we have good friends I could ring and get buzzed in.
Still.

I came home to an email that my friend can house me while in Austin for the record... which was a nice cross off my check list of a million things to do in one week.

It was a very interesting day.
Not perfect but damn near it.

Murder of the little yellow paper...

Last night I dreamed my post-it notes had legs and were chasing me off a cliff.

So that's the downside.

The upside would be I am back in action, riding once again on the folk train.
Trying to get ready to sing and record, planning graphics and meetings here and abroad - trying to maintain just a little bit of a social life before I go (this one I am letting go the last couple of weeks) and more importantly, keep my marriage happy - is well, even for a crazy girl like me - a stretch.

After a meeting with a potential sponsor today, we walked home through the Hofgarten.

I had never actually walked all the way through before, which also meant I never really saw the giant chess set.
Literally, statue-sized chess pieces you move about a small basketball court-sized painted on the cement playing "board."

As we walked past and watched two elderly men bundled up for the winter, carefully lifting the chess pieces and going at it - everything just seemed so big and complicated, yet somehow slow and easy.

When I came home and stared at the post it notes in question before me, I was able to see them in a new light.

Compared to the game I just witnessed, they seemed a heck of a lot easier to manuever
and at the very least, I can crumple them up and that's the last of it.

Til the next batch that is.

Now - if I dream tonight my post-it notes are calling out at me "check mate," I will seriously be checking into the nearest hospital, playing alot of chess for a long time to come.

A good cause my niece is participating in... !

My niece Camila once asked me about when I used to run marathons for charity. She sighed when I told her how many miles and how hard it was.

Now she found a way to do it - goooo Camila!

*****

Auntie Tina,

Hello! I am jumping rope to help the American Heart Association fight heart disease and stroke in Jump Rope For Heart. Can you sponsor me by making a donation?

The American Heart Association's online fundraising website has a minimum donation amount of $25.00. If you want to donate less, that's ok. You can just send the check right to me and I'll make sure the American Heart Association gets it.

http://ahajump.kintera.org/faf/r.asp?t=4&i=248996&u=248996-207691296&e=1586313811
Follow This Link to visit my personal web page and help me in my efforts to support American Heart Association - Western States Affiliate

Reach out and ... ?

This year has already proven to be one of the best yet - for me.

I am in awe and thanking every star and knocking on wood every chance I get.
After the year I've just been through, I feel especially grateful.

And I was thinking the other day about journaling about how much fun I am having speaking understandable German and being understood ... journal about getting orthotics for my shoes that in America cost me $500 for 24 euro here ... and a funny, funny day rodeln with my Innsbruck expats/locals group and while speeding down a snowy steep trail (in a snow storm) whizzing by my good Italian friend Patrizia on her rodel - talking to her mom on her cell phone! The last time I saw anything that crazy was while running the Rome, Italy marathon. At mile 12 an Italian man ran past me while casually and not out of breath I might add, talking on his cell phone.
I was preparing myself for a Italian cell phone blog....

But then while on my bike heading to see my bone doctor - I had this experience that I decided outweighed everything I thought I wanted to say.

I was riding down a one-way street - but really crawling with my leg out pushing myself along - and on the sidewalk.
Now I know this sounds dangerous but I assure you I was practically walking it.
And this 2 minute detour saved me about 15 minutes on a day I could not be late. Being even minutes late in Austria for a doctors appointment means you wait another hour.

Ahead of me, was an elderly women with her back turned, looking in a window.

I was very aware of her and slowed down almost to a stop and if it weren't for the bike seat I was "sitting" on, I was almost technically walking.

When she turned around I had a feeling a dirty look might be coming my way.
So I prepared myself.

And then as I neared closer, I realized not only a scowl was coming but a good old fashioned Tyrolean lashing.

Not only did she scowl and yell but in a matter of seconds as I began to pass, her arm reached out and in one instant, I was officially pushed over by an old lady off my bike.

She was yelling German and pointing her finger, hitting my arm - poking me to the point I am bruised. No kidding.

And I am pulling myself together and despite being completely and utterly in shock, amazingly, I carried on.

I didn't tremble or cry or get all disoriented as I might have say maybe somewhere in America if anything like this had happened.

Because you see, there is something about Tyroleans and rules.
They are very dead set against their rules and people following them. And for whatever reason, they feel they have some sort of civic duty but more often than not, self duty to make sure every last person is following every, single rule to a T.

And if you are not?
You get pointed at, scowled at and pushed over. Period.

So despite finding a happiness here that I think will keep me in Tyrol longer than any land has ever been ever to hold me, I will always have a little place in my heart and surprisingly let out a little giggle - for the little old ladies that feel the need to reach out and push someone.

cigarettes & rain...

Riding my bike through altstadt today, smelling the combination of very cold air, roasting pizza's, sidewalk coffee & the very expensive perfume coming from the tourists, meant I nearly crashed into a wall.

I was in serious bliss and not because the combination is particularly interesting or makes much sense really. I mean perfume and pizza?

I can't tell you why or what happened but right then and there, I pulled over and needed to breeeeathe it all in.

There are just some smells, sometimes that make me happy.

I believe in the scientific approach citrus smells being pumped through an office to make everyone more productive, baking bread or chocolate chip cookies before guests arrive to fill them with immediate warmth...

I remember an odd smell of cigarettes and rain in London taking me on another
level and I don't smoke.

I can only guess it's a mix of all my senses being massaged, taken on a new
journey and in some cases, back in time.

A little unexpected brain workout, trip down memory lane and moment in the day to relax and breath.

view from my window...

the wail...

I told her not to be afraid of leaving those she loved or being left
by the ones she loved back.

It's how I lived and the only way I could live, in order to leave in
the first place.
If I thought too hard about what I was doing - what might happen and
who I was leaving, I surely would never had seen or done the things
I have. I would not be the person I am and desperately wanted and
needed to become.

She wants to leave. Badly.
She has wanted to leave since she was six years old.
It's in her bones - and although we are not blood sisters - it's like
the universe put us together almost 20 years ago and didn't tell us.
...because in every sense, she is my little sister.

I want to tell her to go go go, live and love and be loved - fall and
pick herself up as many times as she needs to.
But at the same time, I want to protect her from the very things I did
and the blindness I sometimes feel I had while leaving everyone behind.

It's a hard call and one I am not happy to make.

But I must make it just the same because that is what the world asked
of me when they put us together.
When they gave me the honor of being Mallory's big sister.

And now I am watching her leave.
I am watching her life become hers and stories being written
for only her to tell. So many I will never be there for, see or understand.
The way a life should be.

And all I can do is sit back and hope that my life on the run didn't entice
or romance her too much.
And that while running, the tales that were not so sweet, didn't scare
her from making her own and taking her own roads - good and bad.

For all it's worth, I think I was completely honest and bare boned about
what not being afraid to leave costs.

I hope.

Because sometimes it's true - I need to just sit down and wail.
One big wail like you hear coming from the mouths of the homeless
cats lingering along the fences.

I let one out every now and then.
Both to honor the ones I left and love - and release the pain that I know
because of it, will never go away.

I can see the view...

Sleep.
Sleep changes everything.

When you have gone far too long without it, forcing it ... or downright begging for it, it would make sense the subject can get you well, a little tired.
Mind you, without the benefit of sleeping it off.

Since returning from my holiday trip to America, it's understandably been more disturbed than usual.

I have been trying everything to get a grip on it when one day recently, I just collapsed.
It was if my body had enough, all these years and just fell like a timber.
Like a child running and playing so hard while one second screaming at the top of their lungs - then the next, lying peacefully at the foot of the couch, or in the hallway, on the table. Wherever they happened to have their crash landing.

For me luckily, it's been in my bed.

For that and for the mere act of closing my eyes each night, dreaming away long movie-like dreams, even though lately the nightmarish kind - I am grateful.

I can already feel the weight of burdens and anxieties, the heaviness of an overloaded mind not being given the chance to unload in the night - lifted.

I awoke to a snow filled Alps outside my window. With a blue sunny sky and that perfectly crispy air you can only get on a perfectly snowy, sunny day.

And I feel like I am 29 again.
And not because I want to be because trust me, you couldn't pay me any amount of money to go there again. Any.
But I remember around there, having some kind of surreal never-ending flow of energy that didn't require sleep. And when I did get it, I was me amplified by 100.
And if I didn't spend those days becoming a songwriter, running marathons, playing on a softball team, being a nanny, chasing kids or jumping around as a clown at their parties, I would surely have had the energy to do almost anything else I could have imagined.
And back then? That's what I was doing - anything I imagined.

So although I am a bit slower, my sleep a necessity that I actually care if I get, my odd jobs long gone and marathon shoes and softball cleats hanging on the wall - I take comfort in rubbing my eyes today - saying well done, you slept.

And when I wake, my view is that of - and quite literally - a majestic long set of snowy Alps in Austria.
Something I would have been far too busy to see at 29. Or even 35.

And although I am keeping my earplugs in just a little bit longer today, I can hear the past let go, the future coming at me and the present just perfectly.

Peaceful and quiet. Just the way I had always imagined.

and it goes and goes...

(written January 20, 2008 @ 7:55am)

"The longer you're gone, the further you get."

That's what my good friend & fellow expat Denise (Belfast, Ireland) said to me about living abroad.

Although there was a long time where I divided my time abroad between America and England - I was never really "gone" - or so it felt.
I always knew I'd go back when the 6 or so months were up and to boot, I was touring hard and really didn't have any time to stop and think about life abroad.
And of course, making matters even easier, most of the time either speaking English in England or going in and out of foreign speaking countries. Just enough to taste it before the novelty wore off or difficulty set in.

I will be the first to admit, life, as an expat is not easy.
Spending 3 weeks back in America, with my family - is both glorious and invigorating and depressing and draining. And not in the way you would think because it has nothing to do with family. In fact, that's the invigorating part.

It's true the longer I am away, the more I see which in turns challenges everything I used to believe about my own culture. You see things through a magnifying glass and instead of reacting to them the old way - the way you were accustomed to as an American, you begin to see things with your new expat eyes. And with that, you just aren't sure how you are supposed to feel or believe anymore. Because you know you didn't just add a few years and experience to your life and change - you really changed. In fact, most of the time - you rebel against it because life is surely easier when you are not challenging everything you grew up to believe, reacting a certain way, living complacently amongst your people.
So in many ways, I don't exactly love these new eyes I have.

When Denise said this to me, we had just finished a last minute but quite wonderful gathering with my expats/locals group I started here in Innsbruck.
It was nearly 3am at this point - having moved on to our place with her husband Arno and a beautiful soul and becoming good friend, Marina, an expat from Brazil.

We stayed up late into the night having one of the most beautiful connections and conversations and of course, somewhere in all of it, talked about what it's like living abroad. How you watch your family age in very disturbing way. Because in some ways, although you are the one gone, they still see you in way they did when you left. And even though each time you return, you return changed in ways even you don't know, it's not always easy for a family to release the pecking order and see you for who you are now.
With that said, although it must sound in some ways not true, when you are away and living abroad, you actually see the people for who they become. One of the reasons I have come to realize this is the more you mingle internationally with others, adapt, learn new cultures and language - the easier it becomes for you to see others for who they are and ultimately yes, adapt to change and people in a fairly simple way.

When I go back to the states, I am realizing each time - maybe by something said or even something as little as what my family thinks I like or dislike. And not just change like a child growing inches within months or changing hobbies like clothes - but a profound inner change. The kind that suddenly gets put on warp speed the longer you are away.
The longer you are away from your people, your culture, your family - the more you do not see things the way you used to and sometimes, the way they still do. You want to come back and challenge them but with only 3 weeks a year, maybe 4 - it's a tireless and futile attempt.

So you - me, I guess after a few days I just gave up and decided I could be the same Tina they think I am. I can wear this family hat, which already, is hard enough at times. Because the weight I bare being in a foreign country, is sometimes so heavy - this is like carrying a fanny pack versus a huge hiking one. I do it.
Begrudgingly sometimes? Yes, for sure. But I do it because I really have no choice. It's the way things are.

And now, it's once again before sunrise and still, after 10 days back, I am not adjusting to the time in the way I usually do.
And I am sitting here, forced awake with the need to write these thoughts - thinking about what Denise said. "The longer you are away, the further you get."

It's a simple enough statement and one, which you read and take, at face value. It's true. But in the deeper sense - ok and admittedly, the jet-lagged one - it's so much more. And what she forgot to add is 'further they get.'
And you see this each time and it makes you sadder with each reminder or incident where it's just as plain as daylight. But you accept it because really, the only other alternative is to go ahead and go back. And even though what always kept me strong enough to leave to the next place and travel where the wind took me is telling myself 'I can always go back,' I know different. Or at least I am willing to see it now.
Because each time I have moved in my life, which have been many - when I left I knew deep down I would never be able to return. Any place would never be the same because the longer I was away, the further I did get and unfortunately, never being able to go back in time is one of the worlds cruelest jokes.

Those 3 weeks were magical, they always are. Each moment with my family was precious and even though I have to witness my parents age in a way my siblings there don't, work a little hard during even daily stuff to fight for who I have become, keep the sudden and vicious epiphanies about my old beliefs or views to myself, I know that in the end, as Denise also said, 'my (your) feet do the leaving (or something like that)
For whatever reason, I have landed myself here, even if feet first and soul later, which for me, is often the case.

And after nearly 10 days back in Austria, away from my country and my family - I can feel my soul slowly beginning to return. Weary and confused and not really sure where it belongs anymore but returning nonetheless.

Like giving advice to the young women that come after you, no one really tells you everything. How hard life really is. We all know that's probably a good thing in the end. Because if we knew that when we jumped we surely fall and end up in a cast, we'd probably never go out or worse, take crunches everywhere we went 'just in case.'

So on this too early to be awake Sunday morning, I cherish this - although admittedly rough realization - feeling of new found understanding about what is really going on here. How fast everything moves and how much time you lack to get it all done.

I let my feet do the talking for too many years and even though I am doing less of that now, it did make me the open, flexible and road-smart dame that I have become.

I have time and distance to thank for that. The longer I was gone, the further I did get and in the end, I guess that wasn't such a bad thing.