n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
We the globe can compass soon swifter than the wandering moon
Many Minneapolians move out to Missoula, Montana and become grizzly-beared barefoot canvas backpack Missoulians (my frame of reference on this “fact” comes only from the Montana Kaimin so bear with me if this is a ridiculous generalization) and they have a grand time doing it. With all this confusion of where to go and what to do now that my time at CVA is drawing to a close, I can’t help but consider the vast scope of possibilities I have laid out for me like the yellow brick road. I find myself hopscotching and lollygagging along unsure of which way is right and which way is wrong. At this point I am convinced that there is no wrong way, per se, because every option is appealing and entirely possible but the enormity and weight of the “where will I be happiest?” question bears down on me like a 20 pound baby still growing in the womb.
“What are you doing next year, Maria?”
I don’t effin’ know! Is what I’m trying to say here, people.
If I move over to Minneapolis and finish my time at MCAD I’ll be close to those I love, on a fast(ish?) track to finally graduating, and I’ll have access to a killer studio. My family is here, my friends are here, and I’ve set up roots in this art community.
Well grounded roots are one thing but I’m also eager to spread these roots out. Grow a little. Like a cactus. Or a spider plant. Or maybe a sequoia.
I’ve been considering an alternative route / root (ha, see what I did there?).
I’d really like to move to Missoula. I love Montana so much that it aches in my bones all year long except for the week that I am actually there in the summertime. The fact of the matter is that it is beautiful and it makes me happy. The air is so fresh and I feel so free. But at the same time, Missoula is a great place for someone like me. The University offers my major. In fact, it would take even less time to graduate from there and it also has a great studio set up. I think life there would be easy but not in the lazy way. Like, summertime and the livin’ is easy a la Ella Fitzgerald. It has that sort of work-hard play-hard vibe and if the playing involves regular trips to the mountains, crimson sunsets, and a sky so big it could swallow you up… I’m down.
As with any decision, there are many complicated factors involved and while I’m not immediatelypressedfortime, I’m still sort of panicky every now and then in the can’t-fall-asleep-then-when-I-finally-do-I-wake-up-after-dreaming-about-medium-format-cameras-attacking-me-and-so-I-watch-shitty-cable-tv-at-4-in-the-morning-to-calm-down kind of way.
I’ll keep thinking on these things. If you have any input send it my way.
In the words of Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Jack shall have Jill.Nought shall go ill.The man shall have his mare again,and all shall be well.
