In Search of: Traveling, Granola, Free-Spirits

I’ve been in this mood lately where I really want to write.  I want to let go, forget everything that “supposedly” matters and just put pen to paper.  There isn’t anything particular I’m dying to get on the page.  But there’s something lurking in the background that so obviously wants to be written.  I think the creative side of my brain is gasping for air.  It hasn’t gotten any work in months, and it’s shriveling a little.  Or maybe it’s art.  I would be seriously happy to create something — make something I could hang on the wall.  Or both.  That would ideal.  Writing and painting.  Oh, and reading.  I’m surrounded by about 15 books at the moment.  I want to read them all.  For different reasons.  Some of them would be awesome books for my students, and if I read them, I could bring a lot to the classroom.  Yet, they’re still exciting books.  I actually really want to read them.  And then there are a few non-fiction books in my stack and a few YA books.  I’m fairly sure I’ve even got a fluff novel in there somewhere.  The point is — I sort of just want to sit around with no obligations and write and read and paint.  And then call it a day.  Or a week.  Or a month.  Is that too much to ask?  I think not.

Except at the moment it sort of is.

The good news is I’m pretty much ready to change that.  Of course, I don’t know what that looks like or even how.  Details, my friends.  Details.

Oh, and you know what else I’ve realized?  I need a few single girlfriends.  It’s hard when all of your friends are either married or committed.  Let’s be honest — the one’s in relationships really don’t have that much time.  They might pencil you in for a meal here and there, but they don’t want to hang out all that often.  They save that for the significant others.  And I get it.  I do.  Because I was there not all that long ago.  But at the same time, I seriously need to get out and have fun and hang out with my girlfriends.  Problem is, I also need to find them.

And I’m starting to remember why living in Vegas never really appealed to me.  It’s hard to find my people here.  I’m into art and culture and food and writing.  And I love travel (we all know this).  In other cities, it was easy to find people that are into art.  It was easy to find a writing group.  It was easy to find my granola, tree-hugging, traveling, free-spirits.  Vegas?  Not so much.  Those granola, hippies are in short supply in Las Vegas.  Thus, I’m a little lost.

And this all seems a little crazy to me because I grew up in this damn city.  I shouldn’t be lost in my own hometown.  I shouldn’t be wondering where my people are.  Should I?

photo credit

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