Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for enjoying me. 

Thank you for letting me in.

Thank you for loving yourself. 

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for being my friend.

Thank you for letting me be me.

Thank you for believing in me.

Thank you for being honest with me.

Thank you for admiring me.

Thank you for being so wonderful to me.

Thank you for being a shining star.

Thank you for recognizing sunshine.

Thank you for being a colorful palate.

Thank you for loving me.

I never really knew as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I always wanted to model, but felt I was too short and not pretty enough.  Then I just wanted to dance, but I realize now that dance, for me in high school, was a way to escape my home life and actually have friends.  My dad was ubber strict.  I see now that it is still my heart and soul, but not a practical thing to be chasing @ 26.  I remember at about the age of 12 deciding, since I didn't have a clue what I really wanted to be, that when I grew up I just wanted to be me.  And I think I've done a pretty good job of letting me develop and become, well, me.  But that ain't payin' the bills or letting me finanically get to where I would like to be.  But the problem is I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.  How is it at 26 I still don't have a clue of what I would really like to be doing for a career?  I have little things that can definitely help me along the way like modeling(I finally figured that one out), becoming a yoga instructor, bartending, etc.  But all of this is such a juggle and it puts me everywhere on the page sometimes.  I do love not doing the same thing day in and day out though.  Ultimately I just want to be happy and be able to afford to live on my own two feet.  I want good, no great health and dental insurance.  I want a nice place to come home to.  I want to drive around something that I'm not affraid is going to give out on me at any moment.  And I want to travel.....everywhere!   

But I have to go to college first cause I realize in order to get anywhere in this country in the 20th century you have to get a degree.....really in anything.  Just so you can put it on that app.  Doesn't really matter if your degree has nothing to do with the job you are applying for you will get offered a better pay because of it.  But I WANT A DEGREE IN WHAT I WILL BE WORKING AT.  I don't want something I'm not even going to use or be interested in once I've gotten it.  And I hate the thought of debt. 

Elena Carter Richardson December 26, 1948-February 4, 2006

Elena Carter Richardson, ballerina and master teacher, died feb. 4, 2006.  Her courage and strength during her 5-1/2 year stuggle with cancer inspired the students whom she continued to teach until the final months of her life.  She died as she lived: with beauty, dignity, and grace. 

Elena was born and raised in Mexico City, Mexico, the daughter of James P. Carter and Catalina Romero de Carter.  Their love and sacrifice and her extraordinary talent allowed her to receive her classical ballet training from Mexico's premier school, the Academia de Ballet de Cayoacan.  In Mexico, she became a principal dancer with Mexico's National Company, Compania Nacional de Danza, and with Ballet Classico 70.  She performed with the Royal New Zealand Ballet and danced numerous principal roles with New York's renowned Dance Theatre of Harlem.  With DTH, she toured throughout the world, touching those who witnessed her beauty and elegance both on and off stage.  On tour, Elena would drink in the people and culture; while London's Conven Garden remained a favorite performance space, a centuries-old amphitheater in Israel and the spiritual majesty of Kyoto's temples infused her performances and enriched her artistry.

Elena moved to Portland in 1982, having retired from DTH to give birth to her beloved daughter, Jessica.  Jessica, like her mother a beautiful professional dancer, trained under her mother's tutelage at the school of Oregon Ballet Theatre.  She began her career with the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago and presently is a member of Chicago's contemporary company, Luna Negra Dance Theater. 

In Oregon, Elena was a principal dancer with the Pacific Ballet Theatre and Oregon Ballet Theatre.  As a teacher in OBT's school and a frequent teacher of OBT's company class, she helped shape the careers of hundred's of dancers.  During her final months she was flooded with calls and cards from former colleagues and students, all of whom expressed their love for her and attested to the major impact she had on their lives.  Elena also taught in the Portland Public Schools for nearly 20 years.  She was a faculty member in the Performing Arts Program at Jefferson High School and at DaVinci Arts Middle School.  She love both positions.

This woman was my first dance teacher when I was 13 years old and when I continued on to Jefferson's performing arts program she was the one who encouraged me to pursue something I wasn't even fully aware that I wanted at the time.  It was an honor, a privilege, and a blessing to have not only had her as a teacher, but to have also known her spirit.

A four day music festival based around the Space Needle with no straight path to get to where you need to be and tons of people everywhere, it was a massive celebration of music. And worth the empty pockets and tired legs. Not only did NAS show up and rock the house, Public Emeny fought the power and Nickelback became my hero with pyros and fire. Burning Spear got us going and some african group mellowed us out. No bag checking at the entrance (you know what that means kiddies, weed was smoked during many of the shows) and wristbands for the evening shows. There were crowds of people everywhere, young and old, and there was peace and trinquility amongst the diverse crowd. It was the party of a lifetime.

Fat Tuesday is just that Phat. Every twenty something getting plastered for what reason? It's Mardi Gras! What does that really mean to us? And don't forget about the few who actually dress up into costumes. Isn't that what they do in New Orleans and Carnival? But the big thrill here in America is flashing boobs to get cheap plastic beads. Now, don't get me wrong, just cause I choose not to do it doesn't mean I am condeming everyone else who does. But c'mon cheap plastic beads you can buy in bulk at the local party supply store. They're not worth your self respect. So my first Mardi Gras experience was anything but......I saw people I haven't seen since my school days, people I didn't want to see, people I was surprised to see, a dance party in the street, cops pulling over every motorist who attempted to drive thru downtown (one qoute for the night was "Fuck, we gotta get out of here, NOW!"), and some girl flashing her boob and getting molested by fifty men, mostly mexican. So was it worth depriving myself of sleep and skipping my writing class the next day? It definitly was a night to be out and if you weren't you missed out.