The big question is, where would I go, and besides painting and writing, what would I do when I get there?
One thing is for sure, as I get older - and I will be over 50 when I can leave Albany - it will be someplace relatively warm.
But where?
Costa del Sol? Where I can live in Spain, swim in the Mediterranean Sea, find a part-time job on a nearby olive ranch...go to the bullfights once a week?
Somewhere in the Caribbean, where I am not too far from my family?
I've even looked at Kauai, the westernmost island of Hawaii. There is a small town, population less than 500, called Hanalei. It's an artist's community.
Ford in Hawaiian is "Poluku."
But I know, eventually, I want to shed my state bureaucratic persona and embrace who I truly am. I was not meant to sit in a cubicle and develop agendas, create matrices, serve any political master. I was meant to be the guy in the painting above.
The question is, how do I make it a reality?
2 comments:
poluku. v. to pound, as poi; to destroy, slaughter, overthrow, pound to pieces.
Considering what I hope to do with my life as it is, that seems appropriate.
Post a Comment