Heart, Work, Homes

I'm halfway along my journey through the wilds of Northern California. After three full months of living immersed in a city amongst the bustle of nights and noise in a sea of humanity, it's a pretty wonderful feeling to emerge from the concrete pool and escape into the country and through the forest trees of my long-lost and loved northward home.

Let's talk about Home.

I'm aware that LA is my aspired workplace, and now I'm free to go to work. I feel like the unbudgable Titanic that is my professional life is beginning to gradually eek forward. With it has come this new feeling of professional order, like I'm finally putting together the life that I'd wanted to create. Doing so has put my mind at ease about professional things, and the stress and urgency is beginning to dissipate into routine.

so as the greys clear, I can see more than ever where my true Home is.

Home is where my heart will stay, as I go to Work each day.

There will be a day when I am fullly professionally sound, and ready to pick a home for myself. I'm lucky that I come from such a rad place, because it tells me where to start looking:

Look at this mountain in front of me, Mt. Diablo.
In random ridges and shades of green she is a beautiful demon
like a guardian over the entrance to the Bay.
Or the city of San Francisco
traveling under the water in a train that will emerge
beneath a city so lush with culture and colours
and rolling suburbs scattering south
housing rich bars and stylish diversity
Or Highway 17 through the redwoods
a haunting tunnel to trespass and traverse
the trek is such a beautiful journey
And the city of Santa Cruz:
a charmingly-messy city tucked between
the low mountains surrounding, dotted with homeless
and between these wood walls lies a city alight with life
glowing in the night with echoes of original music
and debauched joy. Styles converge
into a full culture of locals, transients, restaurants
and adventure by the foggy beach.

These places are a large part of what I call Home. as my urgency dissipates, I no longer have the disdain or knots for these homes that I once felt. Now I just want to stare at the gray crashing waves and smell the mist and seaweed, watch the ghost Boardwalk crank alive and start singing in the cold nights. These places are my home, as is Placerville. LA is my home too, the home for my profession, and not my whole heart.

It's not easy to live apart from all of your family and loved ones. It takes a kind of determination and faith that is both draining but hugely motivating and rewarding. It's a battle I am prepared to continue fighting, tackling, 150%, untiringly so.
At least for now.

That's all. Love you guys.

Mikie