A few words on the Future

There is an end in sight, a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm not talking about death here, I'm talking about leaving the murky, gray cityscape of London for another place. About leaving this stony-colored sky for a place that hopefully sees a bit more of the sun.

With the onset on January came the question "WHAT NEXT?" which set sail on the seas of my life in a frighteningly large ship. This question flew its skull and crossbones high and threw the small boat of 'here and now' into pillaged disarray. I've been spending time attemping to straighten out the confusion, throwing my creativity into endless streams of cover letters, in hopes that I might catch someone's eye in this above par golf game of the economy. And after all these years of art, fashion, costume, French, business and the like, I've decided I want to become a plumber. Do you believe me? I'm going to keep you wondering for a few lines in a heavy-handed form of suspense.

As time flew by my keyboard who was busy clattering with the noisy music of job applications, the month of February stepped itself into line without my knowledge. My lease came to knock on my bedroom door. It informed me that for various contractual reason, I would need to vacate the room on February 15th. It seemed an appropriate time for this notification. The house has been deteriorating before my eyes. Gas cards breaking, poles to hold clothes in closets falling and mold sprouting up in dusty bushels of dull green. With the damp of this UK winter, mold has taken the liberty of making itself a regular guest in my house. It has taken up residence in the inside of kitchen cabinets and across the ceiling of the bathroom. It has decided to install itself on the wall next to our front door and even in the small grooves on the cap of my toothpaste. I think this is nature's way of telling me to move on.

So I will. I'll pack up and go, but not before a good few days of travel. I have a free Eurostar trip to Paris which I plan to utilize with the utmost joy. A few days among delectible food and delightful architecture and then a week in some undetermined country. I'll likely head to Turkey or Morocco, but things are still up in the air like an someone floating in zero-gravity. I'd be happy to take any of you as a travel partner should someone feel like a vacation.

And then it's back to America where the streets are paved with gold (or cheese if your name is Fifel). Don't tell a soul, but I'm actually looking forward to it. Part of me feels as though heading back without making an effort to stay this side of the continent is a sort of surrender, but I'm throwing up my white flag and seeing where it takes me. As we all know, white is composed of every color, so the possibilities are manifold. I want to be in a city and I want to edit or write in some creative fashion, or maybe just in fashion. (No, no plumbing included.) Whatever it be, I hope I can find a job that will allow my wit to run wild over my words. We can all dream, right?

Wish me luck as I continue to forge on along some bramble-covered path. Look back here soon-ish for some less philosophical (or do I flatter myself giving my musings such a lofty adjective?) news.