why new york, and why new york now? how many people coming to live and work and expand and express themselves in new york will it take before this city is satisfied? i've been here just over six years, and what do i have to show for it?
is it enough that dreams are seeded, cultured, nurtured, fail, rise, succeed, and all other manner of it all in between? who am i to interject into the skin of it all? who am i to feel like i'm not insignificant against the numerous others that have something to say?
why am i the only one that feels like i feel? knowing i'm not really, doesn't make it any better, or less lonely, or less of a daily struggle.
i work hard, think endlessly, pay rent, pay off debt, eat to stave off hunger, drink to stave off responsible thought, walk when i must go, and speak when i wish to be heard. this city gives and takes, and pushes me to the edge of it all, then coaxes me back into its loving boundless warmth like dipping your finger into a pot of summer honey. and sometimes i hate this. and most times i love this. it's masochism and it's letting go.
it's faith in my work that keeps me engaged, and a love of the craft that keeps me inspired. we work and toil and become frustrated, have breakthroughs, remain stifled, take longer strides, widen our broad strokes, focus in, listen up, become more who we are in each moment passing than we have ever been ourselves before, and, we still want more. and more and more and more.
why new york?
it's not even about new york, but why not? i'm here now, and i've a story to tell. what is yours?
make a plan for a body of work. it doesn't need to be long-term or deep, expansive or revolutionary. make the outlines for this body of work, seek out the tools to complete it, and accomplish one manageable attainable project by the end of the week. you'll feel great, trust me.