The Return...

THERE AND BACK. The hero's journey. Gilgamesh, Odysseus, Jesus. So I gave it a shot. Set out with questions and realized pretty early on that the answers weren't out there waiting for me. Instead I found new questions and different answers than I was looking for. Walking across the land with a backpack and a staff gave me a new perspective to have a look through. Many people and many places. Most all of them beautiful. One thing I learned: You can't do it just once.


Now I'm back. All the way back. In my parent's house typing my stories hearing the sounds of dogs and old movies in the other room. 10 months away from a place that changes little makes for a strange return. If I don't think about it, it's like I never left. But I do because the feeling of foreign-ness is pretty heavy. Little things like toilets full of water and shaking hands with women instead of dual kissing are jarring. An out-of-place awkwardness that brings on a desire to hermetically resign. Seeing old friends. Not knowing which is worse between having changed much or not at all. It feels good to drive again.

The Pops has demanded a finished copy of my musings from the previous Iberian year. It's taking time and stifling any urges for fresh creativity. I'm doing less and feeling more. Pero, hay que intentar. And so I'll continue to extract fresh output, even if it's just this directionless outpouring of thought. Maybe it will shape up into something. Maybe it will take a trip out to the new coast to visit mi hermana y su ciudad to find some inspiration.

We shall see, loyal readers...