At night I dream of all the places I could start a life.
I want to live everywhere.
I want to live in San Francisco and have the summer fog surround me as I walk past the Victorian houses through the rolling hills. I want a house with a sunroom, allowing the light and air and splendor to slowly creep in and out. I want to go to a baseball game right on the bay.
I want to live in San Diego so the sun can bleach my hair. I would feel the sand beneath my stretching toes as I stare at the Pacific Ocean and eat Mexican food every day.
I want to live in Fire Island so I can take long walks barefoot and live in a cramped house with a hammock in the backyard. There wouldn’t be a television, just grass, sand, trees, sun and the occasional deer.
I want to live in a house made of dark wood in Wyoming. I want to sit on the porch swing every morning safely tucked in my blanket and have the sunrise unfold the earth before my eyes.
I want to live in Israel because it is more than a piece of land; it is a promise. I want to discover all that is sacred and incandescent in the world.
I want to live in Oregon because I dreamed of living there as a child. I want to sit by the ocean and search for whales, taking in their grace and serenity. I want to pick buckets of blackberries in the warmth of the sun, staining my lips and fingers deep purple every summer. I want to sit on my tree swing inhaling the deep scent of juniper.
I want to live right on a lake and have a dock in the back. I would spend the entire summer jumping off the dock again and again and again, savoring the adventure of free falling. I want to lay there bathing in the moon.
I want to live in a small apartment in Florence. I would experiment with cooking each night and eat gelato more than I should. Then I would watch as the sky is veiled and the city is illuminated, flickering in the smooth marble and water.
I want to live in Savannah. I want to walk through the lush city square filled with towering oaks speckled with Spanish moss and azalea bushes. I want a backyard with a magnolia tree so I’m encircled by nothing except for its sweet scent and humid air. I want to sit in the grass and watch the fireflies sing the sky electric.
I want to live in New York. I want everything in New York. I want a blossoming roof garden, with vines winding around trellises because secret gardens are few and far between. It would be some kind of wonderful. I want to browse the farmer’s market every weekend. When I’m stressed I’ll go to the Museum of Natural History and sit beneath the blue whale until the stillness of the moment engulfs me. I want to find love underground.
I want a home, not just a house.
“It's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.”
- American Beauty
