Missing Home to Find a New Adventure

For those of you who know me or maybe just read my blog, you know I once participated in (and worked for) a wonderful annual event. It is a week long festival, in the northern part of the state of Nevada (USA) in the Black Rock Desert. If you have never been it is hard to tell you how beautiful and amazing this event is. If you have been then it is hard to tell you what the event meant to me. You know the experience is different for everyone and even changes from year to year. I had gone for ten years in a row, I worked for them. I built art for theme camps, I did large art installations of my own, I got to know a lot of people from all over the world while there, and I called it home. After those ten years I needed to take time off. I was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at home and just did not have it in me to get back our there. Last year I went back to find it much, much bigger and kind of different but not in a bad way. The same spirit was there and the same sense of community could still be found in pockets between the newbies expectations.

This year I am not going. This year I am planning the new adventure with a trip to Italy for my birthday. I have always wanted to go to Italy and I figure it is time. I am looking forward to the adventure of going to a place I have been studying the history for most of my life. I have said this before; I remember looking at the Time-Life books my folks had in our living room when I was a very little girl too young to even know how to read. I remember looking at all the photos of the beautiful statues of the Gods and the Caesars, the ruins of architecture and the great feats of engineering in decay but still standing. I looked at all these things and said someday I will go there and see these things for myself.

What this new adventure all comes down to is, I am not going to the desert this year and my soul is missing it. I feel the change in the weather that signals summer is here, start planning for the autumn journey to this native land. I miss the excitement of putting together my costumes, my camping gear, my menu, my toys, and all the other goodies one takes to the desert. I am missing the anticipation of the long drive over the Sierra Nevada Mountains listening to songs I only play when heading home. I miss the moment when I get off the freeway and start out on the open highway knowing every turn of the road, every small deserted looking town, every stone, mountain and expanse.  I miss the moment when I first see the nomadic city of gypsies and freaks who I call family. Most of all I miss the smell of the dust that permeates every part of your body, your car, and your gear.

Yes I am missing going home this year but I know the new adventure which awaits me in going to bring me a new perspective of life.

And isn’t that what living is all about?




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