Getting a letter from the H.O. this saturday and having to think seriously about my situation just got me totally nostalgic and homesick. Missing home, friends, family, job, my favorite bars, studio, you know, everything. That instant reaction of anger and lost of control took me out for a few drinks and probably saved me from taking a stupid precocious measure or something.
Walking in town, going places I've been these past two years, talking to friends, sometimes celebrating something, sometimes just giving vent to feelings, sometimes being naughty, others just being wrong and getting in trouble. Such a nice time I had, going for a retrospective in your head and actually physically being in all those places again in less than 24 hours, just walking and having a drink, sharing thoughts with a friend. Leaving home in the morning and coming back home at night, with that feeling of... have finally found natural call this place where I've been living the past years "home", for the first time.
That makes the nostalgia share space with a new feeling: melancholy. But in a good, good way.
Oh, the mess! I guess I shouldn't really mind. Sometimes boredom surprises you with a wave of events to shake you up. Not necessarily in a nice or gentle way, but still, changes are so necessary that if you don't do it yourself, there's always faith there, right on the corner, waiting you to turn your right (or left) and get disrupted. A little bit of a challenge. Of course, one of those that I would be happier in not having to deal with. But why not to see it as that? Isn't it what an artist is meant to be about? recycling (in this case memories and energy to keep going), or reinventing and/or creating (in this case, solutions)?!?!?
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