Sunrise, Sunset

I keep a lot of lists. Like, a ton of them. I have New Year's Resolutions that I make a good effort to keep, I make obsessive daily to-do lists, I keep an eye on the larger week-long and month-long goals, and just for fun, I often break my larger lists into smaller, more attainable lists that are project and/or task specific. But then there's my other list, the one that I go weeks, even months without ever thinking about or making progress on - it's cliché to say and almost passé to have, but I have a bucket list. Or rather, a Things To Do Before I Die list. I'm currently on Version #4 of this list - I made the first version in the basement of my childhood home when I was 13 after reading an entry by John Goddard in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book (don't judge - it was the 90's), and I pretty much copied his list but changed the nouns to suit my teenage taste.

Over the years I allowed myself to delete, add, and adapt some of the entries, and my current version has 101 items. By design, some of the goals are achievable with effort ("learn to juggle"), some I just need to get around to doing ("send a message in a bottle"), and others I know I may never accomplish but will nevertheless enjoy trying ("write an article for National Geographic"). Often times, I seek out experiences or actions that will allow me to cross something off this list - #12 is "see the Parthenon" and while I certainly didn't structure my entire honeymoon around my bucket list, it's not entirely accidental that one of our stops on our cruise will be to Athens. But there are other instances where I realize I accomplished something only after the fact, like the time the photographer got sick and I was the one to take all the publicity photos that got published in the New York Times ("#41 - have a photograph printed somewhere").

Serendipity graced me with her presence last week when I unknowingly checked off #96 - "see the sunrise and the sunset from the same spot on the same day". I was working an event in Cabo, Mexico that was in the middle of the gorgeous Baja dessert, but since I was on the clock, it was never a guarantee that I'd be able to catch even a glimpse of the sunset. As luck would have it though, the schedule was in my favor - my first major task of the evening wrapped up well before the sun started to set, and I was able to spend golden hour at dinner. After eating, it was time to check in back at the production tent (which coincidentally provided a pretty great view of the sunset that was starting to bloom), where I learned that my next task would be to deal with a dozen mini digital film projectors (long story). There's not much you can do with a projector while it's still light out, so I was able to soak in the entirety of the stunning sunset. I smiled, I snapped a couple of photos, and then I made for those projectors like it was my job (because it actually was).

By the end of the evening, I was feeling pretty good. The projectors had behaved exactly as I needed them to, and my boss let me have a celebratory cocktail during the last half hour of the event. But before I got too comfortable, I was reminded of our call time the next morning - we needed to be back on the property at 6am. Which wouldn't have been so terrible, except that it was nearing 1am by the time we were ready to go back to our hotel that was 20 minutes away from the event space.

A quick, three-hour nap later, we were back in the van and driving through the pitch-blackness of Mexican dessert roads. The good people at the entrance gate let our bleary-eyed selves in, and I found myself back at that stupid production tent (please note: I don't hate the production tent. I love the production tent. I was just reaaallllyyy tired). But then I noticed that things were changing. Specifically, it was getting lighter out - which I eventually realized is what happens WHEN THE SUN RISES!!! You have to understand something: I don't see a lot of sunrises in my day-to-day. I work in theater and production, and especially in the wintertime, I don't even leave for work until it's already dark out. But there I was, standing in the exact same spot I was in just 12 hours beforehand, watching the sun rise over the mountains. So I snapped a few more pictures, thanked the sun gods and goddesses, and got straight to work on packing up the mini projectors because the faster I finished strike the faster I could go back to bed.

Please note: I realize that my original entry in my List of Things to do Before I Die said "photograph the sunrise and the sunset from the same place on the same day" and that technically, my sunrise and sunset were from two different days. But whatever. I saw consecutive sun movements and since I'm the only one who actually cares about my list, I'm calling it a goal accomplished.   :)

Work and relaxation on the Big Island of Hawaii

As a stage manager/production assistant/event worker in a usually chilly and always crowded New York City, I find myself more often than not in the back of a conference room, the corner of a darkened theater, or a window-less rehearsal space. It's an unglamorous existence, but I do it because I love the work, not the views. It does get a little old and tiresome however - my Vitamin D levels have been on the low side for quite some time, and it's no accident that I choose sunny and slow-moving tropical locations for the majority of my vacation destinations. But a few months ago, I got the phone call I've been waiting my whole life to get - an invitation to work as a production assistant on a giant event in Hawaii. Naturally, I jumped at the chance (no really - I literally spent the whole phone call quietly leaping all over my living room, hoping the woman on the other end of the call couldn't tell how stupidly excited I was). Four months, two flights, and one minivan car rental later, I found myself on the Kona (west) coast of Hawaii's Big Island - and one of the most gorgeous places I've ever been.

There isn't much to say about the work or the event itself - regardless if you're in Paradise or Paramus, an event is always going to need schedules and walkies, water stations and fire extinguishers. But tracking these things down while surrounded by perfect palm trees sure made the days a whole lot more fun and doable. Also, I was officially released from work on Sunday evening, but my flight wasn't until the following Monday evening - and I didn't have to return the rental car until right before my flight. Obviously, that meant getting up as early as I possibly could to drive straight to the tip of the island and then slowly making my way up and down twisty roads with stunning overlooks. I unfortunately hit multiple patches of rain and wind throughout the day (the Big Island has 11 of the 13 different climate zones, and I'm pretty sure I hit all 11 in that one drive) which prevented me from hiking into a photogenic valley like the guide books told me to do, but it was nonetheless a ridiculously fun and picturesque roam through the inner island.

 

If you go:

*The event was held on the grounds of the luxurious Fairmont Orchid on the Big Island of Hawaii. While I can't report on the hotel as a guest, I did interact with the staff, wander the bowels of the kitchen in search of serving platters, and spend an obscene amount of time driving a golf card around the property - and it was all wonderful and beautiful and perfect. If I had the money, I'd stay there in a heartbeat.

*We were given accommodations at the (slightly) more affordable Islands at Mauna Lanai, two-bedroom condos that came with private lanais, secure gated access, shared use of a well-maintained beachfront and pool/gym, and a small shopping center on the property. If you're planning to stay for any length of time but still want a semi-luxury atmosphere, a condo rental is the way to go.

*A rental car is a necessity if you want to go anywhere off the property, regardless where you're staying. The majority of Hawaii's beauty lies inland - so once you've had your beach day, it's imperative that you see what else the island has to offer. From forest hikes to volcano sightings to coffee plantation tours, the list is endless, but requires a vehicle to get from one sight to another. I went with Enterprise and was more than happy with the service, range of available vehicles, and the quality of my sweet sweet minivan ride. 

20 sunsets

One year ago this month, I began the process of moving all my worldly possessions into J's one-bedroom apartment. There is no official move-in date because the entire event took almost three weeks - since I was moving a total of three whole blocks we never had the need for movers, so we simply took every spare moment to slowly pack and haul and unpack a half a dozen or so carloads of Ikea bags. Though I was a bit nervous about the whole endeavor (other than roommates, I'd never lived with anyone before!), it almost immediately proved to be the best thing I've ever done. It has been so much fun learning to coexist with my boyfriend, and I truly look forward to coming home to him each night (cue: early 90's sappy underscoring).

Anyway, I digress. Despite the lack of heat, lack of air, lack of windows, lack of screens on said windows, paper-thin walls, consumption-riddled upstairs neighbor, occasional infestations, moldy bathroom ceiling, frighteningly rusty fire escape, terrifyingly ancient basement, uselessly nonagenarian landlord, and even more uselessly nonagenarian super who once locked me out of my own bedroom, I will forever hold a soft spot in my heart for my first New York apartment. I lived there for four years - the longest I'd lived anywhere since moving out of my parent's house and into my college dorm. My tiny bedroom with three blue walls and one burgundy wall was the space in which I laughed, cried, loved, lost, slept, didn't sleep, dreamed, despaired, tried, failed, and learned what it meant to be a single white female living in New York City in the late 2000's (cue: Sex and the City theme song. actually wait, don't take that cue. that show is a terrible representation of what life is like in NYC, and anyone who deludes herself into thinking her life is going to be one tenth of what Carrie's is needs to fall into one of those frozen polar-vortex curbside puddles pronto).

I knew I was getting a lifestyle upgrade when I made the move towards cohabitation. In addition to that whole life-partner-automatic-wedding-date thing, the apartment we share sports a few amenities I had previously convinced myself I could live without. Things like ceiling fans, a dishwasher, cable television, screens on windows that actually open, a bedroom big enough for not one but TWO nightstands, a washer/dryer in the apartment, and most important, that dial on the wall that lets you TURN ON THE HEAT WHENEVER YOU WANT TO (I'm told it's called a thermostat, but that term is unfamiliar to me) have become de rigueur - and I have enough self-realization to know that I don't want to go back to the prehistoric era anytime soon.

There is one final aspect of the apartment that I love love love - our balcony. It's by no means a fire escape, and it's so much more than a Juliette - it's a full 15'x5' lanai that houses three chairs, one table, seven plants, and two plastic flamingos - and faces west, offering daily and stunning views of Manhattan. I know I just sounded like an advertisement right there, but there's really no other way to describe the feeling I get when I want to know what color the Empire State Building is rightnow and realize that I can just duck out to my balcony and take a look. Some of my happier moments of this past year have been on that balcony - early morning coffees, quick trips to say hi to the plants, cold beverages on hot summer afternoons, watching in silent awe as the sun drops below the skyline, and late-night conversations with only a citronella candle to light out words.

True-to-form, I developed a bit of a sunset-photo-obsession when I moved in. I try not to oversaturate my blog posts with sunset pics (a "if you've seen one, you've seen them all" kind of thing), but that doesn't stop me from hitting the pause button on whatever we're watching on tv to run outside with my camera. I assume that eventually, the novelty of a gorgeous sunset over Manhattan will fade - but it's been a year now, and my love for this view is still going strong. Granted, I miss a lot more sunsets than I get to see. Nine times out of ten (or rather, six out of seven nights a week), I'm at work before, during, and after the golden hour. And there were a whole lot of late-winter/early-spring Monday evenings when I was home but only to witness the sky turning from light grey to dark grey. So maybe that's why I get so excited when I am able to catch a sunset - it's still a rarity in my life, and I'm like a kid in a candy store when they come around. The pictures above were all taken from the same vantage point on my balcony, give or take a few feet in either direction. Some color-correction was done in either Snapseed or Instagram, but by and large those photographs are showing their true colors - and my favorite view in the whole world.