Middle of Nowhere
That’s correct. I’m writing to you from the middle of nowhere. Well, maybe some speck of abandoned farmland about an hour-and-a-half drive from home. All I got to keep me company is the sun, the wind, and the birds singing at one another.
I’ve been enjoying long drives. Especially when I’m sick of staring at the four walls of my studio/home. I am perfectly capable of this creative stuff outside the house. In a lot of ways, it is very refreshing. Even though my focus might be compromised by long bouts of staring into the distance at lovely scenery or lazy cloud watching, its worth it. And those long drives put me in a meditative state of mind. So much so, I forget how much inflation has increased gas prices.
My extended vacation from hard responsibilities will only last so long. And these soothing outings will fall behind in a long list of priorities very soon. One, better make the most of it while I can. Two, enjoy it while it lasts. And three . . . One and two seem enough.
Future, which is a short few months away will be here tomorrow. School in the fall, stable career after. Both will eat a lot of time, patience, and probably peace. The plan, the hope is to keep and cultivate something that is me and mine. Get some core self care habits in place so that I can take on the world’s stressors admirably. So far, so good.
Art and writing feel pretty core to who I am and what I’m about. Repeatedly I’ve denounced both in the past. Repeatedly thinking that if I can trade those two skill sets for more profitable skills that would make me more money. Success is soon after. And, finally, happiness. All under the misguided impression that by doing so, I’d make a better me. After, thankfully, many failures, I’ve come to learn that if I core myself out, a better me is not made. A hollow man with an empty smile and misconception is not a better man.