#americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #life #perception #reality #manifest #beconscious
Life works exactly as it should – all the time. We aren’t always proficient in the language it speaks, its Strangelove, so the messages may be misunderstood or even overlooked entirely. But they are there. Next time an event happens in your life that you just don’t understand, or makes you feel upset, frustrated, and as if life isn’t fair – take a conscious step back and assess your circumstances from an objective point of view. Pretend you are a separate person analyzing your life. Consider alternative paths you’ve been forced down, trace the resulting events from those unexpected detours, identify patterns you notice that changed your life for the better – instances where you “wouldn’t have met the love of your life at that random bar that one night if your blind date hadn’t stood you up,” or the time when you “avoided a plane wreck by oversleeping and missing your flight” and even “getting fired and pushed into finding something you're actually passionate about doing in exchange for cash.” Perception is reality. This is a powerful statement in more ways than one. Be conscious of the glittering gold web of life you weave.
#americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #life #perception #reality #manifest #beconscious
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Laundry is one of those tasks that usually succumbs to my procrastinating tendencies. A good indication of whether or not I'll stay on top of it is the distance of the laundry facilities from my house. If I have a washer and dryer in my building, I’m likely to have fresh, clean linens 24/7. If I have to go as far as packing up all my belongings and hauling them to the laundromat, I’m liable to be wearing mismatched leftover socks and/or buying underwear because I said "fuck laundry" for one more day and chose to do something else way cooler instead. Choices. They are my own.
Regardless, laundry is where this story started. I woke up this morning with the intent to do it, religiously rotating wet clothes from the washer to the dryer and adding another round until none remained. Embarking on my inaugural descent down the steep stairs into the basement of my apartment building, I laid eyes on my storage unit for the first time. A pile of what appeared to be junk blocked the path to the wire door. Upon moving in, the management informed me that the prior tenants took what they wanted and the rest was left to be scrapped. Stepping past the mound on the floor, a gold picture frame caught my eye. Snaking the metallic frame out of the heap of probable junk, I imagined hanging it on my kitchen wall, surrounding rare Beastie Boys stickers. Scanning and discarding a few more frames, I came across a wooden lithograph portraying an orange shirt-clad Shel Silverstein-ish character traipsing through an acid trip-inspired rainbow tinted Teletubbie field. This I wanted to see more of. Rustling through a box, I unearthed a dozen trippy wooden pieces and a trio of bright-colored paintings. To me, the first canvas represented the chakras using a whirl of hues. The second, dark grape with a defining SPLAT! of bubblegum pink, I really haven’t decided how I interpret it yet, but the third – the third is my favorite. Amidst a galactically spectacular background, the red silhouette of a woman rests in outer space, distinguishable by her lips and glowing heart chakra. She walks alone, looking off into the distance at the universe, with our galaxy trailing behind from her thoughts. She is all powerful. Her kindness and love are undeniable. Basically, I had an incredible art come up, emerging from the basement with more than a baker’s dozen of sick pieces. And I was grateful – for the aesthetic pleasure, the soon-to-be thoughts provoked, and the rest of the larger puzzle of synchronicity to be discovered…when and however that happens. But I knew it was meant to be. All because of laundry. #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #adventure #synchronicity #art #comeup #laundry #chakras #beastieboys My dad loves the Beatles. So I love the Beatles, too. I grew up listening to the Fab Four, lucky enough to have their entire catalogue at my disposal from day one. Switching back and forth between their debut of Please Please Me, to the classically experimental Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and rare B-side offerings of Past Masters, I experienced the magical spectrum of sound– all at once. The musical version of Netflix binge-watching. A decade later, I sat on an oversized vinyl chair in a muggy tattoo shop with my elbows resting on the cold metal arms. A tattoo gun buzzed loudly, filling the remaining space in the room. Dipping the needle into a black inkwell then pressing it against my skin, I winced. Half at the sting and half at the thought of enduring it for longer. But I had more than committed. Spending a week of late nights analyzing lyrics to Beatles songs, I was drawn to Hey Jude and “let it out and let it in,” was permanently etched in script on the inside of my right foot. People always ask me what it means. "It," quite literally, means love. Twenty years later, I took a weekend trip to London, England. Minding the gap, I had just enough time to catch a Beatles Walking Tour of London, hopping on the Underground subway system to Tottenham Court Road Station then hiking over to Dominion Theatre, dodging cherry red double-decker buses along the way. The tour guide named Richard, who resembled an Oompa-Loompa in size, stature, and entertainment value, was collecting payment when I arrived. Nine jingling pounds from each guest, he zipped the heavy coins into his sagging fanny pack. We relived Beatlemania, searching for Paul McCartney around his office grounds, marveling over the studio where Hey Jude was recorded, and taking photos crossing Abbey Road. It was one of those times when things that don’t seem real – or appear to be entirely too far beyond your grasp – suddenly become tangible and available. At that moment, a slight – but very impactful – shift in perception and possibilities occurs. Although they were John Lennon’s least favorite Hey Jude lyrics, they are some of my most, and they are applicable to all: “the movement you need is on your shoulder.” #americanfemale #emilycarpenter #thebeatles #heyjude #tridentstudios #London #uk #tattoo #lyrics #beatlemania #quote #adventure #travel #possibilities #manifest
I sought only the most quaint of accommodations in Amsterdam. The unknown, quirky, kitschy spaces that inspire me to write and think. Handed a skeleton key and pointed across the cobblestone alley to a door illuminated in the flickering light of a bulb swinging overhead, I knew I had found the right place. I felt like Sherlock Holmes sliding the thick key in the lock, smiling as I heard the click that would allow me to enter. Dizzy from climbing the spiraling staircase, I plopped down on the wire bed when I reached the top floor. It groaned. Opening my eyes, I looked up and caught a glimpse of the sunset through the window. But there was something in my view. Turning right side up, I pushed open the shutters and peered out into the sky. A massive steel crane sat in the distance. It made me laugh. During late night sessions, it made me ponder the infrastructure and government in the Netherlands. Today, it gives me a reason to go back.
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AuthorThoroughly 21st Century adventuress traveling around the world and writing about it. Archives
November 2015
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