When I graduated from high school the only thing I wished for was to be a big city dweller. I went to NYC, SF and spent most weeks haunting LA. I’d do that harrowing, completely insane twenty-something activity of driving to LA after work, 4 hours from where I lived, attend a concert, drive back to get to bed at 3am and start my Wednesday morning in class, followed by more work. That unsustainable lifestyle is for the youth, but it was an exciting era, heading to shows, meeting bands, writing pieces. A time when money didn’t matter, it was always about the scene, the new ideas and big city energy.
The unendurable way of living eventually caught up, as it always does. I don’t pine for the long nights. Once international travel came into possibility I realized my spot in the world, the sense of place where distance drew away from big city dreams. The Central Coast always beckons—its people and prospects. This area makes me feel lucky. Though traveling is still a self-discovery bedrock, a reconciliation for home, even though the feeling of home ultimately hinges on people.
Song of the Day: Bill Evans: “Peace Piece.”