Travelers far and wide come together on a level playing field: a new terrain. Each of them bringing their own remnants of home, their own versions of building fires. When you place these characters together and witness what they build together, something magical begins to happen.
Moving into my first apartment by the beach in California seems natural. Maybe because I've dreamed of this moment long enough that it already feels familiar.
I wouldnโt call myself a writer. I am a writer. I am someone who writes. I am someone who expresses theirselves best through words. And dance. But I wouldnโt call myself a dancer. I am a dancer. I am someone who dances. I am someone who expresses. I am someone. I am.
I am in this precarious balance between wanting to make things happen at a breakneck pace and surrendering to the mysteries of the Universe and allowing opportunities to naturally rise. I remind myself that the Universe isn't in a rush...only my mind makes me think I am. Maybe being back in the city that never sleeps has an affect on my mindset. The rush to get from Point A to Point B...like a jackhammer to the road.
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐, I was a little drunk on champagne as my flight to Bangkok took off, just as NYC decided to declare a state of emergency. As I woke up this morning in the magical town of Tepoztlan, Mexico, I recounted what I experienced that fateful day exactly one year ago. I woke up [...]
JUST LIKE JULIA 