Friday, August 3, 2012


  At this point, having been out here for months, with no lease in Seattle anymore and no exact "home" to go home to anymore, I start wondering about where I really live and what is really mine. I feel like I'm hovering, floating between the ship and some other place that only exists inside my head. Then I'll look out at the flat Pacific and realize, I'm sort of nowhere right now. No longer with the urge to bolt from the ship life, I wonder how long I can remain living in nowhere. It's comforting, to live in a shrunken world that's inside of much bigger one. And it's certainly not lonely anymore.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Seasonal work often feels this way--as if you're floating between weather patterns. With a solid winter gig, the summers can feel more solid even if you're not anywhere. Or vise versa. A summer job that plants you in a specific place can be just the roots that let you grow into winter.