Last night, after running 50k, showering, and eating some food, I headed out to I Made An Art, my friend Sandy's party/art gallery opening/sock puppet making party/bands/intellectual minds gathering. It was a lot of fun. I saw some friends, made a sock puppet, I danced, I met some really amazing people.
I met this one guy who was an amazing painter. His two paintings drew me in more than anything else - so full of color and life. I stared at them and after a lengthy conversation with a random guy, was so pleased to learn they were his.
He was living in the country. We talked a lot abt his life vs. NYC life. He lives on a big plot of land with three (three!!) ponds. He owns his house. He has no internet or TV (the latter I have, but the internet...that would be difficult for me), and two cats and a dog. He spends all his free time playing music or making art. He has jam sessions and potlucks every Thursday. He was a beautiful hippie soul.
I suddenly tried to imagine myself, and I could. I love all the stimulation, but living in the country - I could be writing all the time. I'd run twice a day on beautiful roads and trails. I'd take really long walks through fields of flowers. I'd make my own jams and grow a lot more fruits and veggies. I'd focus on writing, on living a pure and happy life.
But could I do it? Would I wilt in depression, suffering from boredom? Or would I get in touch with my true self?
After this intense, amazing conversation, I ended up going to the post-Disorient party and was dancing to DJ Sequoia. The music was so slamming I was jumping up and down, kicked off my shoes, and spreading all of my molecules of my being throughout the party, wrapped in love, glitter, and pure fun. I felt alive. I felt free. I felt complete.
Would I feel complete with three ponds? Do I feel complete living on a dirty Brooklyn street with a view of a garage proclaiming, "NO PARKING"? What do I want? I guess life is part of figuring that out.