Sunshine, good friends, dancing, great food and more than a splash of wine; travel, learning, growing, being challenged, exploring new dimensions of my art, my relationships, and my goals; I'm not sure the recipe for my happiness is particularly unique, but it's nice just to live it for a while. It means that I can enter into this new season (we started back today) refreshed and excited about what this year will bring, while also having no real clue where I'll be twelve months from now, let alone twelve years. But I'm more than a little thrilled by that openness and the freedom that comes with the unknown: freedom to continue trying to find my bliss, and willingness to keep tweaking the recipe as the moment changes. As long as I keep pursuing those moments where I am exactly where I want to be, with precisely the people I want to be with, doing the things that excite and fulfill and thrill me... I won't be so lost. Not every moment is like that, certainly, but the ones that look like what we think they are going to look like are even rarer. So maybe not thinking about what things are supposed to look like is a good thing. I just get to put one great moment in front of the next, and work my ass off in between, and get better at recognizing the best parts as they come on by, without ever forgetting that I am so fucking lucky it knocks my socks off. I think I might run with it though, before anyone finds out and comes to try to correct things.
There is so much to tell. Toulouse. Barcelona. Paris. Albi. Nice. Berlin. Morocco -- Marrakesh, the Valley of Roses, the Erg Chebbi dunes, Fes, and Casablanca. Seattle. Twin Lakes. New York City. Toulouse. I'm still writing to you from my balcony, with my feet up and night falling around me over the water, the mountains having just disappeared into the dusk. Eating my personal half of a watermelon, directly out of the rind, with a spoon. Life's good. I'll get to all the rest soon enough.
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