And So the Adventure Begins
Three-quarters of a harvest moon, yellowish-orange and brilliant, hangs over the night, illuminating it.
I’m up on the roof, in the shadow of the adjacent building, taking it all in. It’s quiet – the bar across the street is closed for renovations – and I’m trying to make sense of it all.
Knowing that I’m hours away from perhaps the greatest adventure of my life.
The pulse is quick. I try and calm the mind, but it’s been racing since the day I decided to throw caution and conventional wisdom out the door and follow a dream.
Live in New York for a year. Observe. Write.
(Try and write two short stories worthy of publication, although there are those people who are hoping for a novel.)
As I type this, 18 hours remain in my life in SoDak. Soon, I’ll run Trinity to the groomers, turn in my cable television box, come back to mop the floor, pack the truck. Walk-through with the landlord at 4:30 p.m., final beers and goodbyes with friends at 5 p.m.
The road trip east begins bright and early Sept. 29. Pick up the keys to my new condo on Oct. 1.
And the 365-day experiment begins.
So much excitement pulsates through my body, like a current.
I look at the moon and try and think of another time I have been so excited to try something. I know there must have been those times. The six months I spent in Japan. The eight weeks in Italy. The various journalism jobs, in various states, moving up, moving on.
But I can’t find any memories that compare to how I feel in the now. Maybe it is age, a better appreciation for things we are given.
I am excited.
I am happy.
My dad, who made this adventure possible financially, said he wanted me to be the kid I used to be: Full of wonder and questions. Willing to jump first, look later.
I have no idea how this year will turn out. I have thoughts, visions. I have the outline of a plan and freelance jobs to pay the bills. I will mostly take life in New York as it comes.
But I do have a feeling.
The notion that something good awaits me in the city.
And I realize that the next time I see the full moon, it’ll be from Manhattan.
I’m up on the roof, in the shadow of the adjacent building, taking it all in. It’s quiet – the bar across the street is closed for renovations – and I’m trying to make sense of it all.
Knowing that I’m hours away from perhaps the greatest adventure of my life.
The pulse is quick. I try and calm the mind, but it’s been racing since the day I decided to throw caution and conventional wisdom out the door and follow a dream.
Live in New York for a year. Observe. Write.
(Try and write two short stories worthy of publication, although there are those people who are hoping for a novel.)
As I type this, 18 hours remain in my life in SoDak. Soon, I’ll run Trinity to the groomers, turn in my cable television box, come back to mop the floor, pack the truck. Walk-through with the landlord at 4:30 p.m., final beers and goodbyes with friends at 5 p.m.
The road trip east begins bright and early Sept. 29. Pick up the keys to my new condo on Oct. 1.
And the 365-day experiment begins.
So much excitement pulsates through my body, like a current.
I look at the moon and try and think of another time I have been so excited to try something. I know there must have been those times. The six months I spent in Japan. The eight weeks in Italy. The various journalism jobs, in various states, moving up, moving on.
But I can’t find any memories that compare to how I feel in the now. Maybe it is age, a better appreciation for things we are given.
I am excited.
I am happy.
My dad, who made this adventure possible financially, said he wanted me to be the kid I used to be: Full of wonder and questions. Willing to jump first, look later.
I have no idea how this year will turn out. I have thoughts, visions. I have the outline of a plan and freelance jobs to pay the bills. I will mostly take life in New York as it comes.
But I do have a feeling.
The notion that something good awaits me in the city.
And I realize that the next time I see the full moon, it’ll be from Manhattan.
Comments
and a full moon or any moon in Manhattan is astonishing. The grid was built so each street has a full view of the moon. There's much nature in the city. It's just different--urban nature. I loved climbing the same rocks my father did when he was a kid in East Harlem
Oh always call Manhattan "the city," or the name of whatever the hood is
I probably felt a little like you do now when I boarded a plane in Toronto with a duffel bag of cd's, a suitcase full of clothes and $2,000 US dollars in my pocket and moved to San Diego. No job, no car, no prospects. It worked out pretty well, I think, all things considered.
Best of luck, bro. Looking forward to hearing all about your adventures.
"GO! WRITE! Be well!"
miss you already.