Friday, March 30, 2012
Too Much All the Time.
I'm in constant conflict over one thing, and that's for sure. When I lived in New York, I always complained that I was too wrapped up in the community I was a part of. My guy friends lived in Harlem, I lived in Carroll Gardens. My work was in East New York. SNL was at Rockefeller. I was walking, biking, and training all over the place to get where I needed to be, mostly to sustain human relationships that were important to me. I often said to my best friend, "I just need to live somewhere where I can BE, where I can CREATE, where I can find time alone!" I need to work at camp and just live in the Redwoods.
Never saw it coming, but almost two years later, I work and live in the Redwood Forest at said camp. It is so difficult, but so rich and fulfilling. I'm a little bit of camp, a little bit of rock and roll, a little bit of everything else that makes me Erin.
But living here hasn't given me any more time to be, create, or be alone.
I rock climb. That's a community. My great deal of my friends live in Santa Cruz, so I commute to friendship, for the most part. I sometimes sit down right before bed and write, but I haven't painted anything but shelving in the past year. I try SO hard. I read (or listen on tape), I stay in shape, I think about making drastic dietary changes and then I go buy milkshakes or make cookies... and I make time for a lot of people. Even though my brain is full of ideas I never have time to put them to use.
My life is the same in the Redwoods as it was in New York. The trees replace the towers, and the birds stand in for the sirens and bustlings. But my heart yearns for belonging in community, no matter how much I claim to be a 48% introvert.
Now, I tell myself, if I could only hunker down and be antisocial for a little while, maybe I could get something done. But would inspiration remain? As long as I stay in touch, my ideas flow, and as long as my ideas flow, I don't have time to articulate them, to sell them, to share them in the way that I'd like to. Catch 22.
Maybe I'll get the hang of things next week.
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