It is 6:00 a.m., and I’ve been up for about an hour or so. Unable to silence my rapidly spinning thoughts, I relinquished my attempts at sleep, rose from my bed, and started the coffee maker.
I am currently sitting in Boulder, at my carefully curated dining room table that I have listed for sale, thinking about how our life in Colorado will be a memory in just mere days. A lovely, beautiful memory.
I’ve done my fair share of moving in my life. I left my childhood home for college, leaving that college for another, going to Illinois for grad school, five moves within Chicago proper, two houses in Boulder, and now our home in NYC! But, leaving this town, this home, where we raised our daughter, grew as a family, and generally had a pretty remarkable life is bringing about some melancholy. If you’ve ever been lucky enough to live in Colorado, you know what a miracle it is to see the mountains every day. Sometimes it feels akin to living in a painting — big brushstrokes of jagged peaks, tall pine trees, and glorious open space.
But, sometimes our tastes change, and the art we’d like to see resembles something more modern, geometric, and frenetic.
Since October, we’ve been residing in Manhattan – that almost feels unreal when I say that. I’ve been reading a book about writers living in and then leaving and sometimes returning to New York City. One writer said, “every writer dreams of coming to the city in their twenties.” Well, I’m not in my twenties, but in the city, I will live. Realizing a dream I’ve had since I was seventeen is an accomplishment on its own, and I’m eager to see what transpires in my next chapter. It is exciting and daunting all in one. But, rise to the occasion, I must! I need to remind myself of this one basic notion – I am an artist, and I must create. Full stop! And so, I will continue applying for dance teaching jobs, choreographic residencies, and writing gigs. I know I will get some rejections, but I also know that the right opportunities are out there. It just might take a little more effort to unearth them.
The morning’s light is beginning to appear, and the mountains that I can see from my window reveal themselves. I will revel in this time that I was living in a painting. Soon I will sell this table and the rest of our belongings worth selling. And I will bid farewell to Colorado.
As I sip my delicious steaming beverage, I know this much to be true – people change, art will always happen, and my coffee never lets me down.