A few quick days in the big citaaay.
Musing on getting lost, vulnerability, and finding familiarity in the foreign. There’s something oddly thrilling about being anonymous. Walking through the streets nameless, meeting baristas who do not know your usual, window shopping strange storefronts. Camp and Matisse, ocean eyes and a polka dotted dress, fig gelato and getting caught in the rain. Plans thrown out the window and plants left on the windowsill. Dreams that feel real and real that hums dream.
I came home minus my old phone, but plus a new little gold loop on my finger. Stacked with my precious “amis” ring, my left hand is singing a whole new song, and I’m into it. :)
I also came home with pages of notes and the start of a possible book (!). Now all that’s left to do is write, write, write. And that’s my Saturday night, friends.