Where am I going today?
This question is not really what I need to ask myself each morning as I gather my lunch, coffee, backpack, purse, phone, computer, any supplies I will need in the studio, and sleepily get into my car to drive the 20 minutes to my work place.
I try to go on autopilot, to get myself to the studio, then figure it out.
This morning, after getting here and opening my e-mails, I had gotten a newsletter about Paris travel, I found myself perusing apartments for rent in Paris.
Suddenly, awareness clicked back on, and I asked myself why in the world I was looking at apartments in Paris!
Then the question -- where am I going today?
I have my to-do list here in the studio - a power animal portrait half finished, promotional cards to get printed, making a centerpiece from grapevine wreath for the open house this weekend. . . .
so why would I think about Paris?
Is this just A.D.D. at work, or do I need to escape?
My studio is my escape, and I love being here, yet yet yet . . . .
I still seem to always think of wandering elsewhere.
I always seem to dream of putting essentials in a backpack and just taking off.
I seem to always have this urge.
Perhaps it means I am discontent in some way, but I am coming to terms with this longing.
I am coming to understand that all who wander are not lost, and some of us just have this need.
A need to up and GO.
In "Out of Africa" Isaac Dinesson had a life long affair with Denys Fitch-Hatton, and he was a wanderer - someone who required a free and open life, and he also understood he was giving up stability and family life - and Dinesson accepted this. She had to.
Something in our culture tells us this is wrong, that we are not productive members of society if we live a wandering life, full of dreams and irrational exuberance.
I will choose my own path -- I am now entering a phase in my life where I can start to wander a bit -- I am coming to the end of the 25 year job of raising kids, and I am ready to go out into the world, find myself and my art.
My journal, my camera, and lots of juicy pens will go with me, and hopefully I can share this journey and inspire others to do the same.
If I did not grab my camera and take the time to stop to hold it under some glorious mushrooms growing on a path near my house, these journal pages wouldn't be. . . . .
Where are you going today?
"In every man's heart there is anchored a little schooner." --Henry Miller