I finally tried fiction, one year ago. Glad I did, but it’s not my most natural way of writing. This is. There are so many words inside desiring release by my self gets too caught up in whether there is an audience for said words, whether there is a reason to say them, and whether self has enough confidence to withstand any backlash to me saying what is on my heart and mind.

For this website, anyway, I’m not concerned with acquiring an audience. If my words resonate with anyone, great, glad that my sharing has meaning. But writing and clicking publish has meaning to me because the words are said, and can’t be retracted. I do measure my words, but only what I say about others, and less so about myself. Though there too, my vulnerability is selective, but it’s still a piece of myself.

I’m thinking about my home and about spaghetti sauce. Maybe I’ll write about those soon. I’m also thinking about my other blogs, and a few soon to be, if I choose to write them. And I’m thinking of possible grad school programs, and whether I need them. And optimism, need to think like that.

I’m not sure where the roads meet, but I’m determined to get there.

The film was better in regards to the rural areas. They are spread out and far from the epicenter of expats in Phnom Penh. The part about the Stung Meanchey garbage dump was enlightening, as I had not visited there. Children and their families live in unsanitary conditions and go through garbage for not a lot of money. I don’t know how much, if any, that’s changed since 2008.

I suppose it will be hard for me to watch any video about modern Cambodia from now on, especially Phnom Penh. Any video is going to have an angle and only have so much nuance. This video didn’t have enough nuance for me. But how many development-oriented videos are going to be nuanced? They are persuasive pieces. People criticized KONY2012 in this regard, which is understandable. Invisible Children followed up with a much more detailed video, which few watched in comparison.

I also have a bit of distaste for stories that portray Cambodians as helpless, or anyone in a third world context, for the matter. When interviewed Cambodians additionally talk about how they are poor and have little hope, and then the good NGO people come in to do what they can, it’s just not paving the road to sustainability. Now, the ‘˜poor’ in Cambodia do need assistance and money is an important part of that, but we need to do better at helping them build on their strengths and getting them to do more than look for a patron to save them from their poverty, and to see themselves as more than ‘˜poor.’ Is this a simple path? Well, no, but the long-term solutions tend to be hard and unglamorous.

Hey, it’s hard for many in Cambodia. People don’t have a social safety net or anywhere near the opportunity that we do in the US. Some of them are really amazing in their ability to survive, adapt, and sometimes thrive, in spite of all that. There are people doing good work in Cambodia, and some NGOs are doing the best they know how to improve things. And despite the Khmer Rouge, the face of Cambodia continue to change. They’ve come a long way.

Mental fog can occur anywhere, and I’ve been wading through a fair bit of it the past 3 months, due to things I’ll refrain from mentioning. It’s less the things than how I handle the things, respond to things, feel about things, that sort of thing. Last week was good though, probably the best week since I’ve been back in the states. That’s good, since I’ve been back almost a year, and that scares me. It’s too much time for too little. Perception can be skewed like that. It’s been good to be around a number of friends I wasn’t able to be around when I was overseas. And walking around the streets of Old Town Fort Collins can be nice.

Looking out my window, I can see the blue sky behind the green true. My window fan is blowing inward air that is cool enough to deserve entry to my space, despite the heat outside. It’s been really hot. Dry. Sometimes rain. Then dry again.

I have a poster of Nighthawks up, the Edward Hopper variety. I’m going to attempt to paint it. I actually already attempted that, but the master version was postcard-sized, while my new version is almost 3 feet wide. It sits at the door to my closet upon my skis. I tried nails, but the foam didn’t approve, so I improvised.

I wish I could make everything okay for everyone, or at least the ones I know and love who are going through hard times. Sometimes, I’m unsure how well I can navigate the fog myself, when it descends. When I can’t see clearly, I can choose to numbly hurt, or I can choose to walk in faith. I don’t always choose the faith route. After sitting on the floor awhile though, the fog doesn’t lift, nothing changes, and faith is just better, despite my lack of sight. I prefer to see the sun, and it may require walking blindly through the fog holding onto a past ray, and choosing to believe the sun still shines on the other side.

Oh, I’m not fully optimistic, but I walk on.

The first time I had seen photovoice was in the documentary Born into Brothels, where a women teaches photography to the children of parents who work in brothels. The children document their own stories with their cameras and we see a little of the world through their eyes.

Now, Fort Collins, Colorado, where I reside, is not the most ethnically diverse place in this country. It’s very white and has a lot of middle class residents. Yet, in a city of 140,000 (when CSU is in session), we do have, if I remember what was said correctly, 2000 international students who speak 70 different native languages. We have dozens of photovoice posters in the room, and tonight, over 50 people from all sorts of places. After all I saw last year in my travels, it felt somehow familiar, and I’m glad we were able to provide our space for them. It’s what we do.

Today, I roasted coffee beans for the first time. I also researched human computer interaction classes and selected two good candidates. Now, I’m writing an essay of introduction. These three things encapsulate my present life goals.

I’ve always liked to write. Most of my writing the first twenty years of my life was nonfiction. I wrote a few articles that were published in small religious publications. Some encouraged me to take a creative writing course. I’m finally taking their advice, many years later. Aside from writing for academic or business purposes, I’ve had a few websites that have served as online spaces to express myself. Some have been personal (www.sethsworldview.com). Some have been of a religious nature (www.christianimagination.com). Some have being to make money (www.frenchcoffeepress.net). My motivation to write has gone through phases. My motivation now is to learn and grow as a writer.

Coffee has been an interest of mine for many years. I was a volunteer at Everyday Joe’s Coffee House for about 6 years in a variety of roles, including that of a barista. The community aspect of a coffee house was my primary focus, with coffee being clearly secondary. After being away from coffee culture for awhile and having had a recent opportunity to do a specialty coffee tour of Europe, my passion for coffee has grown. Coffee grounded me in Europe. I traveled by myself. Being able to make a connection with baristas helped me feel more at home while away. Watching the precision and love with which they crafted drinks inspired me. I still value the community aspect of coffee, but now I also want to master the craft of coffee.

Vocationally, I’ve been a web designer for the last decade. That’s the simple answer. I’ve been a part of a small company during that time. That means I’ve worn lots of hats. I design. I write HTML and CSS. I consult on Internet strategy. I help websites rank in search engines. I do some social media. I edit care. I solve problems. I do sales. I edit copy. I review website stats. It doesn’t stop there. When people ask me what I do, I rarely give the same answer twice. A few years ago, I chose to research other vocational avenues. That led me overseas to Cambodia to gain some developing country experience. I flirted with an International Human Rights degree. That relationship ended this past summer and brought me back to Fort Collins. After six months of transitioning, I’ve finally landed in a small apartment big enough for one that lies 100 feet from Everyday Joe’s Coffee House.

And now, I have a new plan. I’m going to pursue User Experience Design. It involves the strategy and visual flow of technology, but at its core, it’s about humans. I’ve never been much for the technological side of technology. I’ve always been more interested in how people interact with it and use it to connect with one another. I have a good foundation of skills and have the aptitude, but I’ll need to go deeper into design and process. I’ll likely apply for a Human Computer Interaction master’s degree at DePaul and take courses online over three years.

As for my biggest fear? I don’t like being flamed. When a person states their position online, trolls attack from their caves, never caring about the humans they hurt. I stay away from controversial topics for that reason. I have things I’d like to say, but don’t. Maybe that’s not my biggest fear. My biggest might be that no one will care except for the trolls. Maybe I don’t say certain things because I don’t believe there is an audience that would want to hear it. Deep down, I know there might be, but my soul doesn’t have the courage to think it worth it. Despite my growth to be a more optimistic person, there are things I don’t say because I don’t believe strongly enough the positive will outweigh the negative. I have some evidence that’s not true, but the fear is still there, so in politics and love, I just go about my day, keeping thoughts to myself. I overstate the case though. There are people that know me, but more people could. And then there’s love’¦

I wrote four story drafts, revising one. I’m thinking of revising two of the others. You can see them if you like, but you’ll have to ask. I’m not yet ready to just self-publish my fiction online. Maybe I just want to know it’ll be read or that someone actually wants to read it. Please provide an email address if you want to peruse them.

I finished Anne Lamott’s book about writing, Bird by Bird, she encourages one to write drafts, as no one has to see your first drafts, because they always suck anyway. My classmates saw my drafts. Knowing people are going to see my drafts affects the way I write them, makes me more anxious about what I put down, but also makes me try to not suck because I know people will read them, and it’s nice to know people will read them. No one said I was a hopeless writer who should be ashamed to have wasted their precious minutes with my poor excuse for a story. That type of feedback tends to be discouraging. Feedback was constructive, encouraging and a good time was had by all, I think.

The class was online, taught by my friend Andi Cumbo, who I went to college with. We started at the same time, graduated in the same class, had lots of the same friends, and never met in person. She went on to get Masters (plural) in English and just bought a farm in Virginia, and she teaches multiple classes online through the Internet. At this point, I know you are wondering what these classes are, so you can take them yourself, and I’m happy to oblige:

Online Short Story Writing Class ‘“ the class I just finished
Online Creative Nonfiction Writing Class ‘“ the class I will be taking next week
Online Memoir Writing Class ‘“ the class I may take in the future

And there you have it, happy writing!

I found the high end coffee houses in each city through Google, and was pointed to other coffee houses by helpful baristas. It was awesome. I also looked into beer. I went to Delirium in Brussels, which has the World Record for most beers served at 2004. I also found some beer tours that looked enticing, though I ended up going the self-guided route.

More recently, my company has launched a website with information about brewery and beer tours in Fort Collins and Northern Colorado. It’s been fun to explore the craft beer industry.

Maybe one day I’ll know more about wine. I did go on a wine tasting in Florence, so it’s a start.

I’ve been hopping from place to place for 1.5 years now. There’s been much enjoyment on that route, but I’m needing to be settled now so I can focus on other things, like the aforementioned latte leafs. I’m relieved. I can now setup my grinder, press and electric kettle. Wait, I’ve been doing that already. Priorities. It’s all the things in storage that I’ll be able to pull out. I’ll get to see all my book covers and be reminded of what I still own.

There’s more to say about coffee’¦and beer’¦and writing’¦and other things. For now, I’m going to enjoy my Boxcar Coffee made in a Clever Dripper by an Irishman.

I thought I had my housing situation figuring out, but that fell through, so now I don’t. There is affordable housing in Fort Collins, but I want a situation that I feel good about going into, preferably one I am excited about. I’d prefer to live with someone, but not just anyone.

My life is relatively good. I’ve lots to be thankful for. I want more than that though. I want to be excited about something. And I feel like shelter, vocation and love are all unknowns. I feel too old to have them be unknown still. Oh, I definitely have a more positive outlook than I used to, but I had already made a decision for my future. Whether it was the optimal decision or not, it was a decision. Now I have to make decisions again. Sigh.