I remember when I was about 10 years old, I was on a bus with my parents and brother, on our way from Pasadena to Mammoth, California. The bus stopped and two young women got on. They immediatly caught my attention. I was fascinated by them, by the easinesss in their being, the assuredness in their stride, the cacaphony of colours in their dress, their blatant display of femininity, the warmth of their smiles and the tingle in their laughter. I wanted to be near them, to feel who they were, to listen and understand …to BE them. My father noticed my attraction to these two wandering gypsy souls and he decided to intervene, to teach me a lesson in what is acceptable behavior and what is not and so he said.
“Yolanda, have a good look at those girls. I want you always to remember, THAT, is what happens to girls who do not listen to their parents and run away from home.”
In that moment I wanted nothing more than to run away from home. It was also the moment I realized that although I loved my father beyond measure and even though we share a multitude of similarities, our worlds were to become immesuarably different. Like variations of the same melody. We would always share a love of music, slow travel, art and artistry, photography, dance, creating, philosophy, inventing and reinventing, of people and places but we would invitably look at them from two vastly differnt viewpoints. So much had changed in an instant.
My father was perfectly assured that he had instilled the fear of disobedience in me. He could never have even imagined that he had fanned a spark in me that was soon to rage into a full blown out fire, a burning desire for the freedom to roam and explore, to discover: other people, places, cultures, viewpoints, tastes, sounds, smells, languages, adventures of time and of the heart and inevitably through all this to dsicover and reinvent myself in the midst of all these impressions and impulses. It was a desire for which I had no name, at least not yet. Only years later would I comprehend that which was growing in me like a rampant fire was WANDERLUST.