I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting lately. Reflecting on my past, on my present, on my future. Reflecting on my travels, reflecting on being home. Reflecting on making a new home.
Picture the conversation. I’m pretty sure most people have had it in one way or another:
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
A sign of support, of reassurance.
But that statement isn’t true, at least not for me.
“Don’t worry, I’m going everywhere.”
I’m listening to a podcast while I’m walking to work, where I spend the day preparing for exciting new gallery openings and seeing artifacts that I literally learned about in school.
I’m exploring my new community, sharing gazpacho and guacamole and cheese and fruit and bread with the most welcoming group of neighbors. I’m making plans to go to the theatre and to film screenings.
I’m booking the $1 bus to New York and then asking my friend if she’s free to meet up that day. Update: we are meeting up.
I’m planning for Eastern Europe and Malta and Canada and Peru and Turkey and Jordan and a reunion with Florence.
I’m journaling in that leather bound book that I bought in Piazza Navona, from the leather shop I saw in high school and went back to three years later.
I’m blogging about Philadelphia and New York, about New Orleans and Ireland. About all those memories in my head that are begging to be put into words.
I’m organizing my photos and rediscovering the stories that they hold. Thousands and thousands of stories.
Don’t worry, I’m going everywhere.
Yours in adventures and observations,
This is part of a two-part blog! Click to read part one, “Where have I been?”