I’m about to leave Colorado, Utah bound. First Moab then Eden, after which I’ll pick up one of my favorite travel buddies and coworkers and head to Yellowstone and then spend a week in Portland.
Colorado has been good to me. I can see why so many people are moving here. Every single day has been gorgeous and sunny. It’s rained once but that was in the evening and it was a welcomed rain. The landscape is gorgeous and the people are friendly. I could see myself living here in an alternate life or one day. There’s some theatre but much of it in the smaller towns is Vaudeville so there’s room to stake a flag in the creative world here.
I’ve been with family and friends for the last month and so now I set off on my own, though I’ll connect in with family and friends along the way, this will be the furthest mileage from Chicago and the most isolated part of my journey. And that’s probably good.
Because I haven’t written in a week! I was too busy with coworkers and friends. But it strikes me that’s what my normal day to day life was like in Chicago. If I’m going to be a writer, then I need to write, daily. I need to make a space for it regardless of my surroundings. This travel, this experiment was merely meant to kick it off.
I’m nervous about this next phase of my trip but it’s that type of nervousness that feels so similar to excitement that it’s difficult to say which one you’re actually feeling.
Like a first kiss or falling in love.