homesick... but for where?

Once again I find myself in that paradoxical moment where I feel the pressures of life crashing down on me when all I want to do is live out my fantasies; the realities of living are almost too suffocating. The butterflies in my stomach never cease when I think of packing another suitcase, when I think of traveling, when I think of living elsewhere. Giddy is the word that describes the feeling best. Love is a strong word, but also the word that describes my deep desire to make a go of it in Latin America. When? You ask. Why not now? I respond. Oh, that's right -- reality hovers like one of those dark rainy cartoony clouds over my head.

And where is God in this equation? Handy at my beck and call, but it's one of those deals where I get pissed off and feel like screaming: What the $%^*# is going on and how are you going to work any of this out for their good? How is heartbreak supposed to solve anything? Heartbreak when the cause is family is maybe ten-thousand times the pain. It's like comparing the cracks in the desert sand to the crack of a recent earthquake.

But how do we rate our dreams then? How do we go about living while putting everything we want out of our own life on the back-burner? Easy. Attribute it to love and a little bit of "the crazies" in our brains and souls. If anything can drive anyone crazy it's love. I heard SomeWhere that love is stronger than death and there are an awful lot of people who are crazy paranoid about death and go darn crazy dwelling on it and doing crazy things to avoid it. If this is the power of the simple thought of death, which is supposed to be natural and "a part of life," what is the subsequent power of love and the overwhelming desire to attain it and even more dangerous desire to sacrifice everything for it?

been there, done that

This week was spent more or less in a hole. I've been curious about those who stumble on their big break: Bourdain, Zimern and Brown on the Travel Channel are a few, and the countless others that include just about any pen-wielding hand that has ever created a real life story out of a real life experience that earned real life money. People, like those mentioned above, who live, breathe, and literally eat their passion, it's these people who inspire me.

I've written about my travel experiences, I've mentioned that I like writing an awful lot, I've mentioned to friends that living in these here United States doesn't seem like an option for me. My grandmother, when the conniption subsides, I'm sure will come around. I think a few post cards to a few key people in a few key countries are in order... contacts you know are the only way to make it in this world. And it's true what they say, you never can tell what's around the next bend. Who knows? Maybe I'll even start a business based on my own passion!

Lilies