this is us.
four years ago we stood smiling in the hallway of our apartment in southern california and snapped this photo. we lived a few blocks from huntington beach and i went there to soak up that sun every saturday while dan studied law. monday through friday, i worked a tedious graphic design job that pushed every button in me. who knew i would be so thankful for that job and all that it taught me four years later? the summer of 2006, we moved home and planted our feet firm. we were in the midst of finishing law school. dan put in long hours and i was bringing home the bacon. it was just the two of us and i can vividly remember mornings of slamming peanut butter and jelly slices together and running out the door to work. and doing my mascara at the bus stop. we were busy but blissful. four years ago we were still in the figuring things out mode. i thought that mode would soon end. a tiny part of me thought graduation would be a stamp on my passport of life and it'd be smooth sailing from there. little did i realize that so-called figuring it out mode is called life.
one afternoon while sitting at my desk, i started a blog, with the help of pete, my brother and lifelong confidant (happy birthday, pete). deep down, i wanted
it to be cool. i wanted it to be different, but kinda the same too. suffice it to say, my original goals in blogging started out a bit weak and pathetic. at the time i was still worried about getting out there. i was worried about what other people might think. i was worried about putting my bare words in the palm of your hand like a piece of raw sushi. (later i'd learn–only by practice–that what i put into it is what i get out of it.) but the name was (and still is) important to me. i called it marta writes because that's what i've always hoped to do, write more. create more. see more. do more. be more. from there it spun into a new hobby, a new diary, a new way of expressing the ins and outs of my daily life and, in a sense, saying it aloud into the world wide web and waiting for someone to hear it.
i had no idea people would actually read it. without my begging them to. so i must say, no matter how you got here, i'm glad you are here. the audience here feels like a fabulous group of friendly people, the same sort that would come to a poetry reading in a coffee house and clap at my efforts. clapping for pure encouragement and support. the magic is in the clapping. comments mean more than i once thought them to. at one point i thought it would be best to turn them off forever. but i'm glad i didn't. comments have turned into great clients, email discussions, creative projects and true friends. a lot can come out of the comment box. so thank you to those of you who take the time to say hello every so often. the blog world inspires me endlessly and more importantly, being a member of it feels like this awesome incentive to do something creative / worthwhile every day. and that is why i am still blogging four years later.
archived. read a few fan favorites.