Happy May! Spring has made her way here and one of these days I will blog more consistently. Maybe with this fresh weather I will be more prone to especially since I have been quite restless lately. Around this time of year there always grows within me this heavy longing to travel and to go on never ending exploration. Even if it is just locally, the idea of being on the move and to be finding new hidden clearings and fresh little hiding spots and shops is quite invigorating. There is nothing nicer, for me, than being somewhere new and unknown and consequently making your it own, riddling it with your own stories.
Last year was good. I had gone to the west coast last May and flirted with the pacific ocean. My head buzzed with pastel coloured houses and skies so blue they leaked into everything. And in December I went all the way to the southern most tip of America in Florida where I sort of felt like a mid-century heroine on vacation (probably I was just over playing with the literary connections in Key West because you just cannot help it sometimes). But really it was just damn wonderful to be near both the atlantic and pacific ocean in one years time.
I kept a travel journal for these trips though and looking back on it this week, it has really made me hungry for more. My only fear with traveling to far away places is that this year I do not have anyone to go away with and there is something about traveling alone that doesn't sit too well in my gut. In the words of Sylvia Plath: "Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all this is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always supposedly in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yes, God, I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...” Still, I know it's just a social thing and I probably just need to find courage. Perhaps a prescription of Lana Del Rey's music and a few two many empty pages in my journal are the trick to find it. I hope so.
The Dali and Hemingway hearts are made in honour of my trip to Florida where in St. Petersburg I went to the Salvador Dali museum and in Key West to Hemingway's house. I was having a lot of fun making the hearts so much so I even made a scanned version, that is up on top, just because.
