For the Long Lost Writer

It's me again.


I have not been welcomed by the familiar glow of a text post in a very long time; about a year, to be exact. However, today I was welcomed by a very kind message from a very kind person...

Although I haven't updated my blog recently, it is still helping people find their way out there in this big world. For this, I believe I must continue to write, even if only this one person benefits from it.

To begin my first entry of 2015 (wow, it's been so long...) I'd like to explain how I've been feeling lately. This question has been gnawing at me recently, and I must write to find the answer to it.

 Do we ever really come home from extended travel? 

In the past year, so many wonderful things have happened to me. I have moved between states, experienced life, met amazing people. But sometimes I feel like I am floating; somewhere else. It almost feels like I am in a dream but cannot wake. My body may be here, yet my mind is in new places; yearning for more.

It is no secret that I miss Denmark, but this feeling that is beginning to grow deep in my stomach, this feeling that is taking root in my heart and spreading through my veins, is new. For the longest time, I have not been able to identify it. Yet here, while I'm sitting at some coffee shop in Laramie, Wyoming, I finally realize it.

It is the feeling of adventure, of wanting to start new. There have been many changes in my life recently. My heart must know this. Therefore it wants more, it needs it. Is this normal? Maybe. But for those who know me, you know that I have never exactly been one to follow the norm. So, DO we ever really come back?

No.

Part of my soul still lives among the rolling hills and countryside of Denmark. But that is a consequence of becoming a world citizen. We leave part of ourselves behind, and this is not a bad thing. We are ever-changing, always growing, always finding new people to love, new places to live, new experiences to devour.

Along with this desire for travel that I have been feeling, I have also had lots of time to write. Continue reading if you'd like to find out about what else has been happening in my life recently.

For the Long Lost Writer.... She's Back & Pursuing Her English Degree

Lately I have been writing poetry, and lots of it. I should probably be writing my research paper for my English 1010 class, but my hands crave the familiarity of the smoothness that always settles itself in the pages of my journal. It's this feeling I get deep in my bones after I finish a poem, almost like I can taste every individual word...

I've been cranking out poems like it's my job. Hopefully, one day it will be. I've been working on a few pieces for my portfolio, some I've even submitted for publishing. They always say that you find yourself in college, and maybe I have. But I'd like to credit my self-discovery to my poems. I live inside them, they are me; fully encompassing every part of my personality.

As mentioned in the title, I am pursuing my English degree, and I'm also tacking on a minor in Creative Writing. I want to use my hobby to help fuel my career, no matter how many confused looks I receive when I tell people what my major is. It's always accompanied by the same dull and insensitive questions: "Aren't you worried that you'll make no money?" "What would you even do with a major like that?" "Shouldn't you look into a more practical major? Like engineering or maybe even nursing?"

I laugh at these questions; usually to myself for the sake of being polite. What they don't know is that I have a burning desire, a passion so great that only this one thing; only writing can tame it.

I may be a mediocre writer, but hell, it makes me happy so I'll continue to ramble, rant, however you choose to look at it. I'll continue even when no one reads my work anymore, because it's what I was meant to do.  It satisfies me, and that's all that matters. It comes so naturally, that it would be a shame if I stopped. As Hemingway once said, "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

If any of you out there have the patience to read my work, go for it. I'm laying it all out there in the open, something I haven't done in a long time. I have to say, it's more fulfilling than I could have imagined.

So here it is.
For the restless, for the sane,
For whoever, wherever you are.
Feel free to read, enjoy...

"The Runner" 

i wanted to set fire 
to my roots
watch them burn
and scatter the ashes
across beaches
and hotel suites

i was never the kind 
to settle 
but rather 
to run at any sight 
of a setting sun

i chased a night
which did not belong to me

i cradled the moon
soft against burning flesh
soothing to my soul

i ladled constellations
into parts of my heart
that waited in desperation 
wanting more
needing more

i wrapped myself up
in unchartered skies 
ebony black
dreading 
the morning sun


- Dedicated to all of you out there who crave adventure, a change of pace, something new.
You're not alone :)


xoxo,
Mars

Finally Home

The last time I posted on my blog I was a distressed teen that had just come home from one of the most challenging, awarding, interesting years of her life. I am sitting here, almost 4 months later, with a whole different outlook. For some of you, it might seem strange the transition I went through. I might have seemed distant, confused, odd. But it was all a part of who I became; the healing process. If anyone is interested, I'll briefly describe this long process, this transition back into American life in the different phases I went through, so you can better understand what exchange students essentially have to go through.

• Land of the Free? Yeah, Okay...

First of all, my rage against society was off the wall. I was upset with the way we do things; the way we perceive people, our judgement of others, materialism. I was convinced that all our culture cared about were things that I found unneeded, and honestly a waste of time. Now I see I was being a bit to cynical, and that Europe is not perfect. The grass isn't always greener on the other side, but in my clouded mind, everything and anything was better than here.

• From a Million to One

Another thing that I had to deal with when I got home was the lack of support I felt. Sometimes it felt that no one was listening; no one wanted the hear about the amazing experience I had just had. I had made all these amazing friends in Denmark, and then suddenly it was all ripped away and I was stuck back in a place where I honestly just didn't want to be. Sure, there were people who reached out to me, and I'm so thankful for that. But to my selfish mind, it wasn't okay for people who I truly thought were there for me to not want to hear about everything Danish. Now I understand that my thought process was a bit selfish. Yes, Europe was amazing. Yes, maybe it would have been nice to have a few more people that stood by me. But in the year I was away, other people had a life, too. Amazing things happened to them and it wasn't right for me to expect them to listen to my triumphs when I hadn't listened to theirs. Of course, I need to take the time to publicly thank the few who stuck around even when they should have ran... very, very far from me during frustrating times. Sarah, even from thousands of miles away, you've been there to listen through all hours of the night. You are my best friend, my rock, and my sister. I am so thankful I met you in that bathroom! :) Shelby, you are an absolute peach for taking me in and staying by me/supporting my decisions no matter what. You have a beautiful soul and I am so thankful for you. To both my real sister, Ali, and my host sister, Duda from Brazil, thanks for making me laugh, for dancing your way into my heart, and showing me that family means everything. Also, a special, special thanks to Nathan, because after all we've been through, you've picked me up and never let me go. You've seen me at my worst, yet still treat me like I'm at my best. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you, but you have touched my heart and wrote yourself into the very seams of my being. And last but certainly not least, thank you to my parents for raising me to be who I am. Thank you for holding me when I cry, for giving me confidence even when I was at the lowest of the low, and loving me no matter what I do to defy that. I love every single one of these people for who they are, what they've done for me, and what they have taught me about myself. 

• School Shmool 

A year of being away from American High School changes a person. But it's coming back that tests that change more than anything. In Denmark, I had the freedom to use the bathroom without a pass, to leave school without a note, and the opportunity to buy REAL food at school (unlike the cafeteria sludge they serve at most American High Schools). I had a choice for everything I did at school. Of course I had to deal with the consequences of these choices, but at least I was bestowed the trust to do so. When I got home, school felt like a prison. I thought that I was being dictated over the silliest things: "Oh, I can't use the bathroom right now? But why?" "I have to have parent consent to leave school even though I am almost an adult, I can drive, AND I have a job?" "What do you mean I have to have a pass? I'm just trying to get to class to learn!" School was overwhelming and not to my taste. I wish I could say that I have adjusted to this completely, but sadly, I have not.... I am getting better though!

• There May Just Be a Happy Ending 

The struggle to fit in, adjust back to my life here, find who I am, and try to become a full-fledged adult as been rough on me. Sometimes I felt like I was in the deepest rut; stuck in a place that was thousands of miles away in my twisted

reality. It has taken 4 months, a published poem, an internship offer, college applications, good people and some confidence to finally feel like I am present in Alaska. I now feel clarity; I feel that a giant weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I am off to bigger and better things soon, and I couldn't be happier. 

• So.... Where Does the Road Lead?

As I mentioned, two major things have recently happened that have changed my life around.

1. My poem "Coffee" (which can be seen in my last post) was chosen as a topical winner for the Live Poets Society of NJ competition that was held in the Fall of 2014. When I submitted my poem in September, I wasn't even thinking it was possible to win because it was open to all High School students in America... the competition level seemed way too high. To my surprise, the judges contacted me and told me that my poem had been selected to appear in the Just Poetry magazine for teens under the "Of Love and Dedication" category. The magazine is scheduled to appear Dec. 15, 2014. I am beyond excited!
2. I was offered an internship in LA with the one and only Erin Gruwell from the Freedom Writers and The Freedom Writers Foundation. She came up to Alaska to speak to the Matsu Valley about how important building connections and offering inspiration to children can help change their lives for the better. My father is a Freedom Writers teacher through the foundation, so they have known each other since around 2007. Erin came over to our house for dinner during her stay in Alaska, and we instantly hit it off. She is amazing; a true inspiration that catches your attention and your heart. She is one of those people that humanity often talks about: she is a rare soul that aims to improve quality of life for anyone and everyone she meets, no matter what the cost or benefit. Anyway, her assistant Grace mentioned to me about doing an internship with her this summer in LA, where I can see and experience all that they do for the education system in America. If all goes well, I'll be heading down to sunny Cali to develop my skills I hope to use to acquire my English major, and to also feed this passion to learn from an inspiration such as Erin herself. 

So there you have it; the last 4 months in a nutshell. As I'm finishing this post, I am honestly wondering if anyone bothers to read this anymore.. If you've gotten this far, you have just learned everything that goes on in my mind and in my life. I hope that this information is rewarding to some, and helpful to others. It is a way for me to get my thoughts out, because I always feel better and am able to think clearer when I can see the written word silently forming in front of me. It is calming; soothing to the madness that sometimes occurs inside my mind. Thank you for reading, feel free to contact me if you have any questions about me, my poem, or anything else for that matter. As I always say, exchange taught me to tolerate and accept everyone; no matter who they are. Your opinion matters, YOU matter. Just in case any of you forgot :)

xoxo stay tuned for more coming SOOON

For the Sleepless Ones

This post is not about exchange, or anything in particular really. I'm having one of those days that goes by slow; the kind that consumes you until you lose track of time and can't even register where you are anymore. Maybe it's because I still feel a little lost; not really knowing what I'm meant to be doing all the time. Or maybe it's because thoughts of familiar and unfamiliar places stir up my mind until I can no longer think. Whatever it is, it's got me in the mood to write. It's got me in the mood to share the deepest corners of my mind. Hunger of what I do not have: it's a powerful thing. It's got me up at all hours, reading, writing poetry, watching old films about places I've never even heard of. Maybe you'd enjoy a poem I've written, maybe not. But at least it'll be here; seen. You can drink up my words if you wish, let it settle. Decode it's meaning; for there are thousands of possibilities of what it could be. Even I do not know the real cause.. Like so many things in life it is unknown, not shown, but there, somewhere.


Coffee

you were black,
soulless;
round
around the edges,
coffee stained
pages

I cradle you
in my hands,
bring you up
to my lips
contemplate.
breathe you in,
only for a second

but you scold my tongue,
keep me wordless
burnt,
bottomless
like the coffee
you drink

day after day
I wake you

make you
crave me
yearn
for just another sip

a sip of what?
the unknown,
endless mystery

you stir me up
but just a bit
you drink me in,
then I'm gone

like your
morning coffee.


- Mariana Marvel, 2014

inspired by coffee shops in London & those rainy days that aren't really weather related at all

For the Love & the Loss

The last time I opened up my blog was in May. Not to say that I haven't thought about it. I will get random thoughts that I ache to write somewhere; maybe here. I feel like this is a lost art; something I used to love so much but got tired of.  I've even tried writing posts about the countries I traveled to this summer. I'll get about a half a page into it and then all inspiration leaves me. I have about 4 drafts saved, none published. What does that tell you about me? Lots. Let me explain:


I have been home for 1 month and 5 days. I stepped off that plane and almost turned right back around. There is so much to say, so much I want someone, anyone, to know. How do you truly ever leave a place? I feel clouded, foggy even. I've been in school for less than 2 weeks and I'm already driving myself into the depths of insanity wishing I could get out. I came home to a loving family and a few good friends who were full of questions. But as the days dwindled on, so did the memory of Denmark. People don't ask. They figure since I have been home so long that maybe I have forgotten too. But I haven't. It's all I am these days: stories mixed with the extreme desire to get back to what I feel I have lost.

I am a ghost. Stuck between two places: here and Denmark. I think back to the person I was. I see her clothes in  my closet, all of her favorite hobbies and past times. I live in her bedroom, I surround myself with her peers. That is still me, yet in some way it is not. The challenges I have faced changed the way I view things. I am no longer scared of the unknown, but rather so desperate to plunge into its' depths. I cannot pretend that I am completely happy in this town that lives and dwells between the mountains. I am slightly content in the simplest of terms; and so grateful for my friends and family. But when I am alone, my mind explodes with wonder. With hope; hope that someday I will once again be able to see colored houses resting upon rolling hills, the Danish countryside forever etched in the corners of my mind. Those of you who know me know how much I have been struggling lately. Thank you for checking up on me, dealing with my intense longing for a place you have never seen. Thank you for holding me as I cry for people who you have never met. For showing up at all hours of the day to watch my favorite movies and listen to my ramblings. I could tell the same story 20 times and it would still be alright for those of you closest to me. You have made me realize how precious time is, yet how evil it is also. We as human beings are made up of time. An internal clock that ticks each time we take a breath, each time we whisper, move even an inch. Thank you a thousand times over for sharing your time with me; tiding me over until the day my time comes to return to my beautiful, sought-after Denmark.

this one's for you, gaga x2

keep wandering.

Letting Go

Anyone who truly knows me, knows that I love to write. Maybe it is a little cliché, but it always helps me to think clearly after I've written..

Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard time, I write about my feelings.. Being an exchange student entitles one to high emotions. All the new people, places, routines, the thought of goodbyes (maybe even forever) looming in the distance. It's all things I know well. I make it seem that all the people I've met this year have been amazing, and I will admit that more than half of them have been. But in life isn't all smiles, there are hard times. There are people who you simply just don't belong with, and that's something that I've always known. But being away in a different country has really taught me the complexity of it all. Yes, there will be people that hurt you, and everyone who you'll probably ever meet will tell you to just forget about them. But is it really that easy to forget? Is the human mind really meant to forget? I've learned many things about myself, but lately the most important thing I've learned is  how my mind works.  I really take everything in my life to the heart, even the bad. Some may tell you to focus on only the positive things that are happening, but for me it doesn't work that way. Something in the back of my head always tells me to hold on, even to the negative. As much as I try, I cannot erase the challenges. They are there, taunting me and waiting for my next move.. So my dear readers, let me ask you this: Are we meant to forget all the times we've felt homesick, alone, tired? Where would we be if we hadn't felt the longing for home or some other comfort? We're not perfect; so why do our days have to be perfect as well?

It's time to let go of the doubts that you're not living everyday to the fullest just because you didn't have the best day. So here I am, letting go. Maybe you should, too. We are here, we are breathing, there's a world to explore and we have the feet to take us there. As the summer draws closer, the need for simplicity becomes greater. Here's a little hello from the simpler side of me; happy and letting go.

(for those of you want to hear about my exchange adventures, please stay tuned.. I promise a post is coming soon!)

xoxo

Spring in Denmark

It seems just like yesterday that I was sitting down trying to think of what to write about back in March… it always amazes me how fast time goes by when you're busy.

So much has happened in the beautiful month of April… tragedy, loss, growth, memories, flowers, walks on the beach, friends and family. It's been an interesting time for me, but it has shown me a new side of myself I have never seen.


On March 16th, I moved into my final host family's house. It was slightly  stressful to pack  because the amount of stuff I have accumulated is outrageous and unbelievable. The move went well, but I couldn't help but feel this weird sort of silence that I always feel when I switch host families.. It reminds me of the calmness one feels before a huge storm. Deep in my heart I know that that chapter of my life is over, and that even if I come back to the same house, and the same people, it won't be the same as it once was. It's just little things; like the way the kitchen looks in the morning; dark but with the faint light of  winter gleaming from outside. Coming back in the spring is completely different. That same  morning light shines through, but it's earlier and brighter than before, and therefore it shows you things the morning has never offered you in the past. It's all wrong. It doesn't match my memory.. but memories are memories, and even though things change, my memories will always be the same.


The first week at my new host family was really good. I got settled in and started trying to make a routine for myself. Things were mostly normal, except that my host dad's mom was in the hospital. No one paid much mind to it, because we all just assumed it would be okay. But as it so often goes, assumptions are not always right.. Every time we visited her she seemed to get smaller and smaller. She was the sweetest women; always bright eyed even when she was in that hospital bed. I think that's why it was so startling to see her in that deep sleep; dreaming in the ICU with all those machines chattering and cold air pricking warm skin. Every night my host dad would come home and we'd all say "She'll be okay." It became second nature to say it; a safety net that we clung to in hope that things would just be normal again. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out that way. She was taken too early, and even though she wasn't my blood relative and I had only been living with them for 3 weeks when it happened, I felt the loss as if it were my own to feel. It's incredible what death does to people. I believe it can either bring out the good or the bad in a person's character, and I was lucky enough to encounter the first. After what happened, I think we all sort of relied on each other. My host mom, host dad and I. I think it was around that time that I started calling them Mor og Far (mom and dad). It was a shame that the world lost her, but I feel that often death offers something in return. Even though it's small and can never amount to the love that my host grandma gave, it is something none the less. It's different for everyone, but for me, it was the relationship I gained with my host family. I can honestly say we have a strong bond now, because I have seen what they are like when things are at the lowest point. Challenging times show what someone is really like, and I am so lucky and proud to say that my host parents are both so strong, genuine and kind.


During the Easter Break, my two friends Andrew and Holly came to visit me. They are also exchange students in Denmark, from New York and Nevada. It was so great to see them! We went exploring in Aarhus, found a traveling circus with elephants, visited an art museum and a World War 2 bunker left by the Germans in my town. Having them visit me was just another beautiful reminder of all the wonderful lifelong friends I have made this year.

I also got the opportunity to go on a sailing trip with one of the other exchange students in my town. Her name is Milly and she's from New Zealand, and she is absolutely lovely. Her host family took us out on their little sail boat, and we sailed to this little island called Endenlaven…. There were only about 180 people living there, and the rest of the island's inhabitants were rabbits. (so many!). We were blessed with beautiful weather. The sun was shining the whole time, and I am happy to say I got a little tan! :) Milly and I walked around the island, picked daisies near the beach, took pictures and then went back to the boat and talked and soaked up the sun. Later we went to dinner with her host family, were we ate traditional Danish food and encountered a drunk old woman who desperately wanted to bring her cat into the restaurant.. She was not too happy when the owner declined her wishes. That night, I saw the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. It was like cotton candy, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself in it's pink softness and take a long nap. It hung over the sea like a blanket, and stayed there for a surprising long time. It was like it didn't want to leave us; like the setting sun needed our company just as much as we needed it. After that we spent the night in the boat, where Milly and I talked until late in the night. I've decided Milly is just the best, and I am so happy I got to share that experience with her.

Spring in Denmark has been so lovely. The air is getting warmer, the sun stays out longer, and the flowers are starting to bloom one at a time. Summer is almost here; you can feel it. There's a sort of excitement that wasn't here before, the kind that washes over you in the best way. Will I ever be able to express just how happy and thankful I am to live in this glorious place? Maybe not, but I know in my heart that it's true, and that's good enough for me at the moment.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for a post about Spain and my birthday adventures. I should have it up in the next couple days :)


xoxo from Denmark

Halfway Home

Hello beautiful people,



It's been about a month since I last checked in (4 weeks to be exact), so I thought I'd fill you in on my life as of lately.


First of all, I should address the looming questions that keeps getting thrown at me and how I feel about them.

"Have you picked your return date yet?"
"What day would you like to return?"
"Whoa, only 4 months left! You scared?"


"No"
"Never"
"Is this even a valid question?... Of course!"


My sixth months in Denmark has come and gone, and I am quickly approaching the dreaded 7 month mark. The thought of it is more terrifying than anything I have ever encountered before. There are multiple reasons for my fear. 1. It means I have to go home. 2. Going home means leaving all my wonderful friends and my three families. 3. Danish is a pretty cool language, and I know for a fact that not many people speak it in Alaska.. which makes me sad.

So there you have it. The three, boldly marked reasons why I have nightmares about plane tickets and return dates. Of course I am looking forward to seeing my family and friends, but I feel a bit torn. I am living in a world right now where I am (for the most part) independent, able to make my own (smart) decisions, and most importantly, spending every day in a completely different culture than I was brought up in ( which I LOVE). The thing that scares me most attaining the ability to somehow mash these two worlds together: 16 year old Mari who wears denim jeans everyday and still relies on Mom to cook something for her,
and almost 17 year old Mari (yes, that's really happening) who has adopted many of her own character traits/different styles simply because living abroad has challenged her to do so, and who cooks dinner every Tuesday night for the family. Is that even possible?

I know what you're thinking: I should probably just forget about all this and appreciate the moments I have left.. but it's coming sooner than I think I realize. I hope that sometime between now and July 20th (the dreaded estimated return date; because "never" isn't actually marked on the calendar.. Weird, right?) I can somehow wrap my head around all this and find a way to have some peace of mind.


Anyway, my life has been pretty busy. I spend a lot of my time with the lovely Sarah Aaen, doing various things like sophisticatedly sipping carmel macchiatos in the city, casually blowing all our money on clothes we want but probably don't need, watching romantic comedies until we fall asleep, and basically just spending as much time as we can soak up before I leave. I am so lucky to have found my best friend on exchange, and I refuse to think about having to go a day without seeing her. I am actually secretly contemplating trying to fit her in my suitcase.. but more on that later.

Besides spending time with Sarah, I also play basketball with a coed team in Silkeborg. It's just for fun, but it's also been really fantastic because I have been able to meet a lot of great people from it.

I mentioned above that I have to cook every Tuesday night for my host family. I am very grateful for that because it has taught me so much! I now feel comfortable enough to cook for more people than just myself, which I'm sure my mom will love when I get home.

Speaking of my host family, I switch families for the last time this weekend. Yet another realization of just how fast this year is going by…. When I look back to when I changed host families last time, I feel like I am looking into someone else's life. How could that be me? I feel so different now. I know I have changed so much; grown in fact. And I can't thank all the people who have been here for me enough for that. My three wonderful host families, class 1t (especially the beautiful Juline), the other lovely exchange students, my Rotary club, and various other great people I have encountered these past months. I guess I should just enjoy these moments.. what else can I do?

Thanks for reading

xoxo fra Danmark