Huntington Beach. When I was a hippie in the 70’s, I hitchhiked to Huntington Beach California from Ashland, Oregon, about a thousand miles away by myself. I had what made me sparkle, and it would follow me wherever I went. Yet, there was no one to give me medical treatment or to sit by side at nights, as I rested in park areas along my journey, so I tried to ignore the fact that I was ‘alone.’ Not long before then, I was hospitalized in OSHU, and I yearned for someone to sit by my side an say, “Hey, how are you doing, or how are you feeling? When it wasn’t possible for that transaction, I learned to use my imagination, visualizing how I felt or what I saw, on canvas. I look at it this way, I used my tools, and my life was saved. Eventually, I was fortunate enough to work my problems out by myself. I got the medical attention, I needed. Here is the beach I ended up at- Huntington Beach. I am 22, standing next to it in my bikini. My advice to anyone thinking about hitchhiking now days is be very careful, and if possible, don’t do it. Life is too precious to waste.
Me at Huntington Beach
Arts and Writing by Sherry 