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One of my long term goals is to relocate abroad or to a meaningfully different region of the U.S. Either would fulfill me on an important emotional and spiritual level. Of course, there are many practical issues that emigrating to another country or relocating to another city will bring, but my attachment to New Orleans is what will cause me the most distress; I know I am not at all ready to leave her now, especially not right after we've been through so much, but I do believe that it will one day be absolutely necessary to move elsewhere and I hope that I will be emotionally prepared for it when that time comes, or that I will have flown the nest before. New Orleans just possesses so much inherent, gentle, often crumbling beauty that when I think of leaving I hesitate for so long thinking of everything I would be leaving behind and suddenly realize another year has faded. I would miss my friends and family and my people, but most of all I would miss the mystique and faded glamour of New Orleans herself.
In any case, I trust that I will be prepared to leave this city behind at some point in the next ten years- At the very least, I will be as ready as I'll ever be and that may have to be enough - we'll see!- and at that point I will move away, because my restlessness demands it. I often consider moving to several other American cities, specifically Eureka Springs, Seattle, New York, and Boston; I think Eureka Springs would suit me best, because of its New Age atmosphere and friendliness towards the GLBT community there, but because I want to get in to illustration work Seattle or New York may become the obvious choices.
I could be happy in several European countries, including Denmark, but I would be concerned about their policies regarding bringing American animals over, because I could not leave Conrad behind for anything. Another problem is that Carl is not only disinclined to leave New Orleans, but totally unimpressed and nonplussed about my idea to emigrate abroad! I think the long, dark winters of Denmark would be too much for him and Danish is not an easy language to learn, so it's pretty much out of the question, although I feel a deep attachment to the country. I would love to move to France, but I think Carl's hung up on a lot of American notions about France and the French in general, but he's intelligent and open-minded, so I know that he can get over that pitfall. France also has relatively lenient policies when it comes to accepting immigrants, so it would be a somewhat easier move than one to other European countries.
Of course, my black-and-white nature makes deciding these things difficult, so only time will tell. I would also be very happy building a cottage in the woods somewhere, because I so enjoy the grounding effect being surrounded by nature has on me. Of course, the most memorable experience I've had in that regard was in a pine forest in Denmark, where the woods were so profoundly silent and upright, with black ants passing inexorably over the thick, springy moss covering the forest floor, that the stillness was nearly overwhelming and I felt compelled to speak in a whisper, although I would have preferred not to speak at all. It's amazing to me, also, the subtle variations in emotional sensations that different wild places evoke, like the dark, self-possessed bayou backwaters my dad and I explored on his little, old flatboat when compared with the sacred, looming, blue mountain of Glacier National Park when reflected in a lake of water that was so crystalline that its bed of stones was obscured only by the perfect mirror image of that mountain at sundown. I could write more about seeing my first sunset on the Grand Canyon, or the vibrant colors of desert mud in the Badlands, or about watching vari-colored lightning bugs in a black-as-pitch Arkansas night in the mountains, but I've already lost sight of my original point, so I'll just stop here.
In any case, I trust that I will be prepared to leave this city behind at some point in the next ten years- At the very least, I will be as ready as I'll ever be and that may have to be enough - we'll see!- and at that point I will move away, because my restlessness demands it. I often consider moving to several other American cities, specifically Eureka Springs, Seattle, New York, and Boston; I think Eureka Springs would suit me best, because of its New Age atmosphere and friendliness towards the GLBT community there, but because I want to get in to illustration work Seattle or New York may become the obvious choices.
I could be happy in several European countries, including Denmark, but I would be concerned about their policies regarding bringing American animals over, because I could not leave Conrad behind for anything. Another problem is that Carl is not only disinclined to leave New Orleans, but totally unimpressed and nonplussed about my idea to emigrate abroad! I think the long, dark winters of Denmark would be too much for him and Danish is not an easy language to learn, so it's pretty much out of the question, although I feel a deep attachment to the country. I would love to move to France, but I think Carl's hung up on a lot of American notions about France and the French in general, but he's intelligent and open-minded, so I know that he can get over that pitfall. France also has relatively lenient policies when it comes to accepting immigrants, so it would be a somewhat easier move than one to other European countries.
Of course, my black-and-white nature makes deciding these things difficult, so only time will tell. I would also be very happy building a cottage in the woods somewhere, because I so enjoy the grounding effect being surrounded by nature has on me. Of course, the most memorable experience I've had in that regard was in a pine forest in Denmark, where the woods were so profoundly silent and upright, with black ants passing inexorably over the thick, springy moss covering the forest floor, that the stillness was nearly overwhelming and I felt compelled to speak in a whisper, although I would have preferred not to speak at all. It's amazing to me, also, the subtle variations in emotional sensations that different wild places evoke, like the dark, self-possessed bayou backwaters my dad and I explored on his little, old flatboat when compared with the sacred, looming, blue mountain of Glacier National Park when reflected in a lake of water that was so crystalline that its bed of stones was obscured only by the perfect mirror image of that mountain at sundown. I could write more about seeing my first sunset on the Grand Canyon, or the vibrant colors of desert mud in the Badlands, or about watching vari-colored lightning bugs in a black-as-pitch Arkansas night in the mountains, but I've already lost sight of my original point, so I'll just stop here.
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From:
no subject
Northeastern Minnesota is a good alternative to Scandinavia, anyway. That is the part of the US that I consider home, and the only place I would move to if I moved back. The stretch of country along the north shore of Lake Superior is fantastic, in many ways.
From:
no subject
I've been to the Great Lakes area during the spring and there was still snow on the ground in some shady, wooded areas! It is absolutely beautiful. I also really like the Black Hills area, but again, probably too cold and dark for Carl. Where did you live before moving abroad?
From:
no subject
I lived here. It was magnificent!
From:
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Oh, wow. Those photos are breath-takingly beautiful. I'd definitely like to live some place with four dinstincy seasons, rather than the two we get down here! What did you like most about living in the region? Was there anything you disliked?
From:
no subject
What I loved was the wildlife and the lake. Just being near the lake and listening to it was fantastic; for 6 months we lived about 10 feet from the shore so we heard it and smelled it constantly. The lake in a storm is a fantastic thing too. We had an owl invasion our first winter there; one day we counted dozens of great grey owls between our house and Duluth, plus about 30 rough-legged hawks in a short stretch of a road. Lots of things were wonderful there, I can't look at the local websites without getting a little sad.