pearls

I had written this in October of 2009, when my mom was admitted into the hospital.

MRSA had caught her, and she was then onto the ICU...

from bad to worse...days to weeks...

months of healing...

it is/was a frightening, humbling ordeal.

My mom is superhuman, a Light Bright vision, a person like no one else I have yet to meet.

She is patience, humility, underestimated strength.

My BFF. Who I want to be when I grow up. That's for damn sure!

i form warm rose pearls from my sweat.

there is god in me, that's for damn sure.

no one harms me.

no one claims me.

i am salt diamond St. Petersburg sand.

i am Wisconsin Friday Night Fish Fry, red-checkered buffet tray in hand.

i am bootleg Christmas trees and Sears blenders scuttled through South American borders.

i am light bulb pollen and pumpkin marigolds.

i am the IV hanging.

i am the medicated halo that creates an imbalance to your white blood cells

counted and calculated and charted so tenderly.

an unconscious medical wonder VIP.

i am the fierce antidote.

i am the medicinal cocktail logging laps in your veins from brains to foot,

there is nowhere for you to root, to plant,

to anchor your vessel.

i know. its such a hassle.

the tip-toeing, the unknowing, the blood bags, the thick liquid bubbles,

the moist heat, the clot by your feet, the dose of chalk to choke in -

to eventually infect your mouth as a baby's yawn .

and breath never became so slow before and

life never became so death before and

nine doctors in white cloaks spoke

your full name

in a huddled ring outside your room of hushed infection.

no one can harm you.

no one can claim you.

the tension that tightens you now beings to froth and drown.

your vessel can anchor.

let the Earth-Shaker scour all.

the god in you, you passed to me -

since in your sweat pearls warm were made.

my mother,

of spring skin and gems,

allow Saint Poseidon to anoint your breath again.

then, ease her anchor into deep bamboo coral

and wade to witness the reborn vessel.

namaste, mom. te quiero mucho!

Examiner.com

Submission for Examiner.com.

I didn't get the job, but I tried.

So, for now, in my mild sorrow,

bite me, Examiner.com.

I left my 10 year hometown of Chicago, Illinois, in chilly, late December (2009), for Otura, a town just outside of Granada, Spain. My return to Europe was to make my way north...to the north of Spain, to the north to visit never before visited German relatives of my then boyfriend, now fiancé, to the north to quench my tulip and old world obsession in Amsterdam, and to Paris to reunite with my Peruvian cousin and her French chef fiance.

The family friends (a husband and wife team) who housed me in Otura, are both travelers, adventure travelers, at that! They own and run Venture Forth Iberia, specializing in bike tours, art and religion tours, complete with hiking the Camino de Santiago in the north of Spain, and posses the amazing knowledge of Spanish food, culture, landscape and history - while raising their little boy, who mingles between English and Spanish fluently.

Upon my return home, New York called out to me as my next city to conquer! Welcoming a new city, such as New York, onto my list of "Cities to Live in Before Death," only creates the momentum to thrive and explore! to digest the culture! to continue traveling! to continue to learn my way around this planet one Arrondissement at a time.

I am currently 'living abroad' in New York. I arrived March 31, 2010.

My past travels have lead me to Costa Rica, Spain, and Peru, and Peru once again in August 2010, for the wedding of my cousin to her Parisian chef. My father's side of the family all still live in Peru, in Lima and Miraflores. My travels 'home' to Lima allow me to develop my full character as living as Peruvian-American. My mother has gorgeous Swedish and German roots, but hails from Morton Grove, Illinois. My desire for travel/living abroad will always root inside the bulb of discovery. The discovery of oneself, a personal or cultural historical discovery, the discovery of freedom, humility, humanity.

It's obvious I posses a passionate vim about travel, about serious connection, about the blossoming that only travel can ignite!

*** *** ***

Within the "Living Abroad" topic, it raises my interest in the tourist. The tourist, the native. In New York City, New York, in Vanves, France. The new working-tourist fascination and how adaption, and adoption, of a city is a worthy cause for character and career development.

The concept of 'home' is always a curious beast. One that snarls as it hunts, a constant reminder of where you 'should' be as opposed to where you 'choose' to be and vice versa. The topic of home is rich and deep, universal and superbly individual. I am enamored by the sweet tug of home, as well as the vicious roots that drag you back over the welcome mat and through the screen door when you least expect it.

*** *** ***

Infected by wanderlust, Gina Cornejo, has made 'home' her own moveable feast. Hailing from Chicago, and claiming New York City's, Hell's Kitchen, as her own, she begins again to audition, perform, write/blog, navigate, participate in event marketing and promotions via LeadDog Marketing Group, Inc., and continue on her quest for the best slice of pie. Newly engaged, a destination wedding is highly likely.

(mini sample bio they asked for)

*** *** ***

namaste, Examiner.com...maybe next time.

official arrival, folks!

between 8th and 9th

between deli and thai

an official arrival of spring has sprouted.

it's no matter that i can't pinpoint hyacinths in Central Park,

since i sweat wet lavender and pollen birth.

between fine French and New Jersey foul

between language leftovers on 10 for 1 postcards

between the fruit vendor, carb vendor, pashmina, nuts and keychains;

the official arrival of spring is salivating.

it's no matter i'm saturated, since i live in the Kitchen of the Melting Pot.

so, between the airport and an off-broadway rehearsal

between ORD and my entrance down into the wedding rabbit hole,

the official arrival of a proposal has occurred!

between the transition and upheaval

between our luscious parisian lifestyle lilt and

dutch -gracht and -stradt wonderings of tulips tip-toed up narrow staircases...

between this hustled choice of life and travel,

we paused.

he kneeled.

i gaped.

there was a ring.

we popped a cork.

he swig. i swig.

i made phone calls.

he went back to work.

i said a holy YES within the hustle!

and, the official arrival of an engagement has me sweating flora

as my foul mouth trumpets elation, f*ck! yeah!

(now, if i can only manage the b**chin' subway!)

namaste, to my fiance!

3-31-10

new york, new york

arrived into LaGuardia

meandered through Queens

hit walls of traffic

spoke a little Spanish with my cab driver,

25 years he's been here, big city, he says, where you from?

Chicago!

big city, too, he says. not as big as New York, but big.

but, where you from?

Ahhhh, Wisconsin. Born and raised.

But, your asking about Peru. I have family from and in Peru. Lima.

Going there for a wedding in August!

aaaaahhhhh, Peru?! ceviche! mmmmmm, the ceviche!

Claro, the ceviche es muy rico...

i pay George, thank him for the service, as my bags get bellhop-ed into the lobby.

no keys, no map in hand

New Big City, ripe and juicy

carousel doors leaving me spun and hungry

until, my love pushes through the amusement of the ride we took to arrive

and

calms

me

back

to

planet

new york,

new leaf.

namaste, NYC. let's be kind to each other, new lover!