All These Things That I’ve Done

As I begin to write this post, it's Boxing Day.

It's crazy to think that this year is coming to a close.

It sailed quickly, much like the ferry from Split to Hvar.

Tuesday morning, October 8th. It was a two-hour ferry ride from the town of Split to the island of Hvar. Before the trip began, I got a photo of the cruise ship and a smaller boat sailing in opposite directions as the sun rose.

A lot has happened, but how do I tie it all together?

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine standing in a room full of strangers far from home reading a poem. Or hiking through the Plitvice Lake National Park. During the ten days in Croatia this October, I did both of those things. The trip and the launch of the paperback edition of my book, "A Poetic Journey, Staying At Home" happened simultaneously. To my surprise, Nikoleta, our tour guide, and her group of thirty-eight travelers formed a receptive audience. Given the moment at hand, I felt emboldened to toot my horn.

The night of the farewell dinner in Croatia, just outside of Dubrovnik. I had just finished my reading of the poem, “Unicorn”, at our tour guide Nikoleta’s request. I’m at the end of the table with the Ožujsko beer bottle in hand.

Before I crossed the Atlantic, I took my first train ride in the United States. My sister and I traveled to Rhode Island for the Labor Day weekend. Not long after we arrived in Newport, there we were, sailing on a Newport Charter Cruises afternoon sail through Narragansett Bay. As we walked the Cliff Walk, we enjoyed the sea breeze while passing Salve Regina University and making our way to The Breakers mansion. I would usually have my hiking sticks with me in this case, but they do not fit inside carry-on luggage. One sure step at a time, I’d navigate the scenic terrain. This was a moment in the year that should’ve gotten its post, but it went by so fast that my photos do the weekend more justice than any words I could write.

The Cliff Walk. In Newport, Rhode Island there is a path that extends out to the sea. Among the many scenes you’ll come across are the campus of Salve Regina University and the mansion, The Breakers. This path goes on for a lot longer than we walked, as the full path has more uneven terrain to cross.

More attempts at boldness were to come.

During the summer, I took an improv class. Yes, that’s correct, improv.

For a while now, I have been procrastinating in finding interests besides writing. Something that would get me out of the house and away from scrolling on my devices. Dancing often came up, but I couldn't square away a class to go to. So, did guitar lessons as I used to play during my high school years. I felt as far away as I could get from my comfort zone. As the six weeks went on, the self-consciousness slowly ebbed away. "Yes, and" would become the rule of the day.

On the last night of Improv I, our teacher Samantha had us pose for a group photo. As it turned out, there were a few more photos taken in hilarious poses before class let out one last time. Some of us hung around afterward for a round of drinks at the bar at the end of the block.

I recall making pasta. Or tried to.

At Aunt Jake’s on the Upper East Side on an early June Sunday morning. Learning to cook is something that I’ve long wanted to do, to feel confident enough in my ability to provide for myself. My hand-eye coordination wasn’t great, and it showed on that day. My attempts at pasta-making didn’t come out so well. I laughed it off this time instead of berating myself as I’m prone to do. I did the best that I could and granted, the pasta that I left with ultimately ended up getting thrown out. It didn’t matter in the end though, as I was in my sister’s company, with a comforting bowl of Caccio e Pepe, accompanied by an ice-cold bottle of Peroni Nastro Azzurro for lunch at the end of the class.

I tried to make pasta, this was the result. In the end, these pieces were never used. But I did the best I could.

I even tried my hand at being athletic, playing pickleball for the first time.

Back in May, I came across the group, Single Saturdays. Run by the dynamic duo of Natalie and Nick, they plan events for single people. I thought it could be another way to meet people that didn’t involve loud music or drinking. As so happened, they were hosting an event at Court 16 in Long Island City. I had heard of pickleball before, seeing the outdoor court at the end of 200 Water Street with people playing as I crossed the street towards the South Street Seaport. I’d get my chance. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t that fast in playing the balls, that I put more power in my shots, or that I got confused by the rules of how to play the game, I had fun.

At the end of two hours playing pickleball. As I was changing back into my clothes, I caught a panoramic view of all the courts. A moment of stillness after all the play that happened.

Trying to dance flamenco…that happened this year too.

You are me here, trying to keep up with the flamenco lesson. I give Arielle Rosales and every flamenco dancer all the respect in the world for being able to make the moves that they do without missing a beat. It must take years of practice to do so.

In March, City Center in NYC hosts the Flamenco Festival. I planned to see the Gala Flamenco in 2020, but the pandemic canceled those plans. I’ve been waiting for the exact moment to right this wrong and it came when I got the chance to see the famed flamenco dancer Olga Pericet premiere her latest work, “La Leona” for the first time in the US. With the bonus that there was a pre-show flamenco lesson in the lobby. Even after dinner, an Estrella Galicia, and a glass of sherry, my moves didn’t get better, I just kept on laughing. I have a newfound respect for every flamenco dancer out there.

Me, doing a photoshoot? Yes, I did!

In the days leading up to Valentine’s Day, I came across a giveaway that the company Shoott Photos was doing. I entered by writing a post that embraced my singlehood and self-love, instead of being ashamed of it. I didn’t expect my entry to be chosen. Yet, there I was on a cloudy, gray day along the marina outside the shopping center at Brookfield Place. With the help of their lead photographer Rachel and the company’s co-founder Jen, any hints of apprehension that I had didn’t show themselves here. I smiled without my sunglasses. For that to happen in the company of strangers is an accomplishment in itself.

Nine different photos, a small glimpse of the photo shoot that day as there were thirty photos taken. I show all the emotions here. Thankfully, the rain stopped just in time for the shoot. And go figure, the skies cleared out later in the day.

I didn’t expect to find a community when the year began. This too, came to pass as I scrolled at the start of this year.

Enter Stacey Lauren, and the Do The Thing community. The ad for her Find Your Voice challenge kept popping up in my feed. I took it as a sign to take on the challenge—seventeen days of posting and some live videos in my responses. I started to sort out what I wanted out of my life. I tried to engage more in my writing and with the audience that my words bring. I didn’t expect anything else to happen otherwise.

This post doesn’t cover every single thing that happened.

For all the amazing things that happened, both parents ongoing health issues lurked under the surface. If this year has reminded me of anything, it’s that I need to do more with my days as life is oh, so short.

All the poems written, videos created reading them, podcast appearances, and everyone that I’ve met along the way in 2024. The common thread is, that things happen when I decide to stop hiding behind scrolling and actively engage with the world.

The Poetic Journey in process. A candid moment between myself and my friend/publisher Tina Welsome as she showed me the progress being made with “A Poetic Journey’s” creation.

2025 has a few big moments on the cards.

My publisher will release my second book of poetry, “The Dawn of A Poetic Summer,” on February 1st. Towards the back end of the year, a pair of trips returning to the Iberian peninsula are on the cards. Finally, 2025 is the year when I will turn 40 in December. I know that there will be plenty more moments to come in between.

I want to thank you. For every like, comment, share, and moment of engagement. The interactions, even from the vast distances of the world, bring so much light into my life.

I hope that 2025 is a good year for all of us, filled with more moments to write home about. Here’s to all the happiness, health, and peace to come your way in the new year.

As is tradition with the year in review, Mr. Stephen Sondheim gets the last word. From his 1971 musical "Follies", the last verse of the song "I'm Still Here":

I've run the gamut.

A to Z.

Three cheers and dammit,

C'est la vie.

I got through all of last year

And I'm here.

Lord knows, at least I was there,

And I'm here!

Look who's here!

I'm still here!

The battle is won, with all these things that I’ve done.

And that's a wrap for 2024!