I'm getting "out there," wherever there may be. Moving is so intense...oh so intense! Its like writing. Not just for its intensity but also...necessity. I have to move. I am something of an escapist. Or an adventurer. Or a traveler. How do you want to put it?
I wonder if it'll ever stop. The moving I mean! Not the writing. No. No. The writing will never stop. But...will I ever stop moving? I believe that I will. That we will. How do I know this?
Well...get ready for intense...because I know how I want to die. Or at least, where I want to be. I see myself as an old crinkly woman living on a rounded mountain peak in the middle of a nowhere forest in some tropical Latin country surrounded by dark-skinned children. I am in a village, and it is muddy. I have been here for a long time. Here, I am respected. And the children love my stories. (Y por supuesto, cuento las historias en español.)
You don't get to be an old woman like that if you move all the time. I know that Gabriel and I will find the "right" place someday. I see it as a place inside my heart. My secret garden. In a way, we are already here. And part of being here is searching for there. Moving closer and closer. Going deeper and deeper inside the heart of the future we imagine.
And its fun. Its life.
We have our first visitor since moving to Hawaii. It is so great to have you-know-who here!!