the uselessness of a rogue balloon...

It's like a rogue balloon gushing out air, or the thirsty deep cracks that form in dry desert sand, the uselessness of a Ferris wheel that quietly and motionlessly sits in the shadows surrounded by bright twinkling lights and scaling noises echoing the purpose and vitality of a carnival.   That is what a wall feels like.  The wall that you hit when you've been running a hundred miles an hour too preoccupied to realize it's coming when suddenly you realize that what you love to do, you don't love to do anymore.  That stark realization has the power to send chills of panic through an exhausted body.

  Writers have writer's block, artists go through dry spells, and musicians hit a wall, and then proceed to slide down it for a few days, weeks, months or years.   But from the other side of that realization I can see that sometimes that wall can be a sign of a healthy passion.  You don't know what you've got till it is gone, the mystery and magic of art tends to loose some of it's je ne sais quoi right when you need it the most.   At moments like that I feel it is important to step back and find fresh perspective and focus, perhaps from the base of that brick wall you just face planted. When I say that I am really compounding what I think I should know inherently.  But I guess what I am projecting out "there" is that everyone, or so I am told has moments of second guessing their calling life.   That second guessing doesn't make your passion any less real or relevant, it is simply a moment of needing a new vantage point. 

Europe- revised

It has been a long time since I've added anything to what seems to be my online diary.   Since my last thoughtful post, I have toured through Hungary, Serbia, Montenegro, I've explore Vienna and Berlin, and blitzed London only to conclude my adventure by being serenaded by the sights and sounds of Paris.  This was a dream come true, to not only travel to Europe and have my passport stamped at the gate of each new country, but also to look at this historical continent through the lens of a really decent camera.  The trip highlighted areas of strength in my character, and areas of weakness, I've fine tuned the art of packing a backpack and learned the importance of leaving things behind in order to save my behind.   The things I was able to see as we enjoyed our sample platter of European decadence ranged from an inside look at life in a small rural village outside of Novi Sad in Serbia, to fine dining on the Champs Elysee where Chanel was the suggested dress code and luxury seemed to be a currency. 

I had the opportunity to behold manuscripts of my favorite composers; seeing the squiggles of their pens and enjoying the caresses of their penmanship over lines on an aged piece of parchment was surreal.  With my own two eyes I finally saw Big Ben in all his glory on a windy day in London as double-decker buses pushed past me and hoards of tourist joyfully posed for pictures.  I felt as though London and I connected instantly, the parks and streets that exuded charm spoke to my  British heritage and brought out the Londoner in me. 

Our final stop on our epic journey was Paris.   The City charmed me in a way I can hardly put into words.    Glamorous and yet reserved, it is picturesque everywhere and begs to be photographed, drawn or painted.   The city is a live with history that lingers on every corner and allows the tourist to feel as thought they've stepped through time, or at the very least through a portal into the Parisian world viewedthrough rose colored glasses.

With so much to see and so little time to see it, Paris needs to be explored again, well, that being said so does London, Berlin and Vienna.  These cities have pulled out for me new colors and shades in life.  I now see life a little bit different having now explore such historical and important landmarks.  I ache to go back, and to spend more time in each important city.  I have a sneaking suspicion that I only scratched the surface of what is to be enjoyed in each metropolis. 

europe

I had the adventure of a life time.   I covered more ground in a month than I could have ever hoped.

I pondered as we sought out ancient churches and preserved palaces the idea of nostalgia.  We are all nostalgic in some way shape or form.  We hold onto the past by revisiting it in its various forms.  It seems as thought we have the ability to stall time for even a split second when revisit moments in history.    In Europe where everything is old and  recalls a very divers history full of moments vital to the memory of the global community and moments that were on the brink of forever being forgotten, but somehow saved and put behind glass. The movie Midnight in Paris also reflects on this idea of  revisiting a time more appealing than the one we find ourselves in now.   Maybe because this historical moments, tokens and sites are tangible and can be seen, and beheld, in a round about way, it is the only way to hold onto time.   Hmm.. europe.  You've opened pandora's box, and given me the travel bug.