I am metaphorically at the edge of a wide open space, either because I've sought it out or because I've failed to actively fill the space with meaning.
I've been thinking about environment so much. About how I long for a place that is both new and inherently home. I was in San Antonio yesterday with my friend M, I showed her my favorite lobby that was built in 1811 and had music that was reminiscent of either Poland or New York in 1982. And then we got into this conversation of wanting to be in a place with secrets, and loopholes to paradise, like New York in the 80's or Paris in the 20's or the Wild West of Billy the Kid. It got me thinking about New Bedford and also Montreal, sometimes Boston and definitely New York.
