Wandering: Finding Place

I am wandering, aimless in this life: a freeloader, living off of generous hands. I did not see this coming. I saw my dreams start unfold before my eyes, at the tips of my fingers... those dreams are gone, done, dissipated into oblivion. At least that's how it feels. A friend recently invited me to live with her, for a year in Cambodia. A part of me yearns for newness, for a place to be inspired. The other part craves stability, home and lifelong friendships. I left NYC in June with the intentions of an imminent return. It was not so. I am torn between two worlds right now...

I once lived in NYC, actually twice. And in those months, it stole my heart. I braved the summer and the winter. Braved the spring, but not the fall. I learned compassion, in a whole new way, I learned to see and breathe and sing...photographing all the beauty, the people and the place - I found a home. I fell in love and broke my heart. I skated round the pond in Bryant Park.

I conversed with a New Yorker friend online today. She spoke of being a quitter and hopes that in not quitting her most current endeavor that in the, end her experience, it will in turn, be fruitful Her revelation reminded me, that I too, am a quitter (have been a quitter). I fight with my desire to quit everyday. I know what it is.

More than goodbye, I hate to be vulnerable - exposed for the entire world to see. Intimacy is excruciating. I was thinking today as I looked down at a small sketch (I once drew) - I was startled by it, startled that it looked like something, that it was art. I think of myself as an artist in one form. I am a photographer. I get confused by it sometimes, and often wonder why I have no other, artistic tendencies. When I saw my sketch, I remembered the vulnerable moment I drew it in ... It's rare, those moments happen. But, It made me think of all that I could accomplish, if only I allowed them to happen.

I think, its there that NYC pulls at my heartstrings because far from home: I have to be vulnerable.