But I also support stepping away from writing because after 20 years I feel I’ve pushed the medium to its edges.
That it has said everything it could say, on my behalf.

My writer’s career was born like the Siamese twin to my path of reinventing my love life.
It was my laboratory where I logged and dissected my findings.
The war room, where I came up with new strategies.

In 2019, more than four years into what would prove to be the relationship that would be the crown to this path – I changed my diary to a fictional 1994.
I re-imagined:
“What if it was 1994, and we were transitioning from university into working life, and our loose arrangement that had started in highschool, was falling apart?”
This revived the story, and gave both my writing or you could say “it gave him and me”, a new chance at life.

But after this relationship ended, I had to switch things up once again. This is when I invented a new timeline, earlier this year.
One where a very young Lauren had chosen to be single.

I took it all the way back to 1990 where Bear, as she called him, had never been someone she had casual sexual encounters with, but instead he was someone she had seen in December 1989;
And had said No to.

She’d wait it out, until something less casual would come along.
Or not.

This is the Lauren we are dealing with now, November 1990. On this new timeline. And one I’m still insecure about as an art project.
I mean, time travel?
What is that even? 

But instead of letting the Project 1990 fade and giving up on it, I started toying with the idea of creating a space or habit, some sort of reminder, that would weave 1990 into my days.
Even just being aware more often, that I was supposed to be in 1990, was already a step closer to getting there.

I was looking for ways to weave 1990 into my days, and/or into my surroundings as visual reminders, when “She” (1990-me) showed me herself.

First of all:
The girl needs more pink.
Preferably the baby pink version and also preferably combined with grey. But in truth any shade of pink and combined with any other color or straight up plain, will do.
The color Pink will remind me to live in 1990.

And she also asked for three 15 minute blocks of yoga, throughout the day. Not one longer practice, which I won’t be doing anyway even though technically I have a time block reserved for it every night (which always magically disappears) 
So she took the lead and said:
“No more of that.” (clears time schedule)
“Now try this instead.”

Three 15 minute practices a day, for an 18 year old virgin. And not just to become really good at yoga, or whatever. No, the lady has got it all figured out.
This yoga is going to be her All.
Her One.
The all-encompassing, adventurous, nourishing, exciting physical experience that even if no man ever makes it to her bed, will be enough.

The yoga mat is where she will develop herself spiritually, physically and as a human being.
And the reason I said Yes, even though I’ve been flaky as f, both with this whole time travel thing, as well as with my yoga- the reason I said yes, is that I’m no longer doing it for myself now.

I’m doing it for her.

~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living

The story behind this time travel project has been added below..

Books 

My diaries are available at LULU 
New books will be added.