Full Circle…

This past weekend’s event was absolutely astounding.

It felt like life had come full circle—like a childhood wish finally came true.

When I was little, I remember watching chalk artists with awe. I’d try to mimic them with the pastel children’s chalk I had, drawing little flowers on the sidewalk. No matter how hard I tried, mine never looked like theirs… so I assumed chalk just wasn’t for me.

Then, last month—while I was sick for the second time in a month—my friend Darin sent me an application to participate in the Pasadena Chalk Festival. I almost declined. I was tired. Sad. Not feeling well. But I’m so glad I didn’t let that stop me.

A little background on Darin—we met at a book club in Pasadena when I was 19, at a restaurant called Zephyrs. I mentioned I had lived in Pasadena from Kindergarten through 6th grade. When I told the group I went to Linda Vista Elementary, Darin’s eyes lit up. “My mom worked there,” he said.

It turns out… his mom was my kindergarten teacher.

SMALL. WORLD.

And that’s not where the synchronicities stopped.

At the festival, a friend I hadn’t seen since I was 16 came to visit. We met in 6th grade, after I moved to Burbank—and reconnected for the first time since high school. We bonded again instantly, star seeds on our own journeys after our departure from “The Bank.”

Another dear friend—an artist I graduated college with, who was featured in our senior art show—also came by. We had just reconnected shortly before the LA Art Show. Seeing him and his sweet girlfriend there meant everything. He’s a talented Libra with a keen eye for beauty, and I hope he keeps creating too.

My friend from San Diego also made the trip—someone I hadn’t seen in almost 3 years. He drove all the way up just to support me. We caught up, laughed, and reminded each other that life is short, and we’ve got to do what we love.

And then, out of nowhere, I looked up and saw my mom and grandmother. They had come all the way from San Diego to surprise me. My mom in her signature flowing outfit, my grandmother in her iconic hat. I was stunned—and deeply moved. Their presence was the icing on top of a perfect weekend.

I felt so supported—by friends, family, and the new art community I met.

Artists shared chalk, offered tips, and welcomed me with open arms.
I learned so much. I felt inspired.

I felt like chalk had become a new medium for me, one I never thought I’d be capable of working in.

And above all else, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time:

Home.

I left LA County in 2017 to try something new. I gave six solid years to a slower-paced lifestyle in a new county. I tried to adjust, but deep down, it never felt quite right.

When I moved to Orange County, it was closer—but still not it.

But for the last two months, I’ve been back in LA County, staying with my boyfriend and his family.

And now I feel it. That soul-rooted sense of belonging. That spark.

This event reminded me what home really feels like.
The late-night conversations with fellow artists, the laughter, the shared food, the mutual understanding of what it means to create, to heal, and to persist. Stories of tragedy. Stories of triumph. Moments that felt like soul medicine.

It was more than an art festival—it was a mirror. A moment that reminded me of who I am, how far I’ve come, and how deeply I’m meant to be here.

When I left my parents’ house at 16, someone once told me, “You should forget Burbank. Burbank already forgot you.”

So I did. I left—and I never looked back.

But now, after all these years, I see it differently.

My donation piece for the silent auction was titled “The City Forgot Me First.”
But the truth is, I wasn’t forgotten… I was hurt. And art has been the medicine.

It’s amazing how life brings us full circle.
And sometimes… it takes leaving home to realize where home really is.

-Lund3on