"Where is the bear?"

The world of change. Sea change. See this change, in my pockets. I just moved back to Chicago and so far it has been a maelstrom of good, bad, beautiful. The stresses of getting my life together and keeping it together have been unreal and so viscerally punching at the same time. (Bear with me, I'm a few glasses of wine deep).  Having a place, my own place, a home that is under my domain is unlike anything before. 

On top of this setting up this home, designing, decorating, pacing, staring, ticking has been enough to make my brain split like an apple having just been cut with one of those pie chart shaped slicing devices (which I clearly cannot think of  the name because I cannot think, clearly).  Anywho, my room is almost together, posters on the wall, books placed on the shelf, "a home for my records" as sung by The Daredevil Christopher Wright (a very important midwestern band you should know about). I have my own little hideaway space in my closet that I have to walk past my hanging button-down shirts to get to. It seems like it might be a nice place to yell and lose it or have a nice moment to myself to think and disappear.

The point is, I have a home; space and though New Hampshire is my heart's delight, Chicago is a beckoning second. I'm carving and carving and carving away into this state, into the midwest, into the beautifully carefree, simple and intelligent folk. It's a point in my life where there is so much possibility that I get anxious because I feel like I could blow it. 

Though there is much to my content right now, I still don't feel stable. I still feel like the kinks need to be worked out and I don't give myself time to say hey ' You have only been here for four days, it will all work out.' And it will. This much I know.

Come join me. Adventure me. Talk silly until Tuesdays...I'm kicking sense the other way.