a place to be and become

I've written four drafts this past week, but I haven't posted.

I suppose I've been muddling through, sort of weighing everything, wondering what the next four months will be like.

I'm scared. I've changed a lot here. I wonder if people at home will recognize me. I wonder if I'll recognize myself.

It's not about moving home that's bugging me out, it's this sort of temporary permenence that each day will not be the same as the one before. I'm not trying to say I don't want to move forward, but for the first time in my life, I know I'm nearing a goal that I've only dreamed about. I don't know that stats on that...if people really reach their destinated goals, but I'm almost there and it's frightening.

Lately, I've been watching a lot of movies, and this would be a mixed bag: Good bye Lenin! The Motorcycle Diaries, Memoirs of a Geisha, and Gone with the Wind. The theme or the destination of each film seems to define a place to be and become....a theme close to my own heart...

What is that place? Metaphorically or not, I've always hoped I would find happiness there.

To write, to be vulnerable, is a task that I take too seriously, which is why I have been writing more drafts than posts. My friend tells me that it is more difficult to write; to be honest when you know someone could be reading it, and since I told several people about my blog, I wonder if I make any sense at all.

I was sick for a week and a half, and I've been pretty miserable just trying to sort out this and that.

On another note, someone looked at my paintings and said they were organized chaos. What more could I ask for? Somethings, just don't seem what they are and others, it just takes a while to understand that they are what they are, without explanation or a clear-cut definition.