It's Started, It's something that i have been battling for a long time. I think my mom battled it too. Maybe before that, maybe its part of our blood. Leaving. We are all here in the new world aren't we? And if we happen to be descended from native Americans, weren't most of them pretty fond of leaving too. Traveling around and posting up in place where the climate makes sense to do so. Like the hobos still do. Like all the crust lords who are sitting in front of the McDonalds on St. Claude.
Growing up, my mom moved me and my sister every two years. I've talked about this before. I've plumbed the depths. And yet I haven't defeated the desire. I moved back here to New Orleans in October of 2009. It's January of 2013. 3 and a half years. I want to leave. I want to come back again, but mostly i want to leave.
I want to live somewhere where im not afraid to walk around at night, which in a way could mean that i should move to the french quarter. But i also don't want to live in a tourist trap. I've made a list. I think it means i should move to denmark, but it could mean the bay, or berlin, or minnesota, or montreal, or maine.
I think it means i need to live cheaply, either by grants or residencies. I think it means i need to incubate, soak into myself, and create. I think it means i feel safe and comfortable and now it is time to take that next step up. I think its time to open the possibilities. To not feel encumbered by the community of friends that i have always feared leaving, the friends i have made that have somehow anchored me in my 20s. It is not abandonment.
