Maine fulfilled its promise. It was a safe and comfortable place to land. It was where we got our bearings. In Camden, there is a library on a hill overlooking the harbor, where I first imagined being a mother walking with a small girl, that place turned out to be more than fantasy. I lived a dream, which has never happened before. I believed in a life before I saw it, I had faith and that faith was a prophecy come true. Hand in hand. We are building it, we are making it real. And now, here we go again. again-again. We're off. To the West. To pursue. To earn and achieve and make one last stab at adventure. Before the next time we do it all over again.
I've been more tired and more afraid. I am ready to go in the most American direction of destiny. To sift through chaos and have the unknown become familiar territory. Which isn't to say I no longer want roots. A house with a garden, a room of my own. Every time we move I have to create that space all over again. Seek out the best place to write and work and make each house a home. A home, there's no place like home. There's a Wizard of Oz exhibit at The Farnsworth. A collection of the movie's memorabilia. Behind the museum a replica of Dorothy's house as it looked when it landed. Disheveled, having been through a twister and murdered a witch. I know how it feels. I have been that Kansas house in Munchkin Land.
California, here we come. Away we go to Lotus Land.
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