These days I often seriously consider what represents my dreams. What concrete image or object, which less visible thought or memory is a good enough stand-in for the direction I trusted my life might take. "Seriously consider" is about agonizing not so much if anyone did anything "wrong" to derail and dislodge the momentum, because everyone – including me – has taken less than optimal actions and many times if not quite every time the mis-step or wrong turn has been corrected or redeemed into something better or simply surprising.
There's a very big difference between breakfasting with Suzanne on the back porch in Koreatown during late winter 2016, less than a year in Current City, and assessing my current situation minus a couple years of Covid. There's "best construction" on people and circumstances and then there's lying about stuff that (surprise!) can be quantified. Did you know you can't change what you don't acknowledge?
But what represents me? What's my place in the world versus the place or land under my feet, underneath the house or other building I'm in?
A house, a place, the land, the beach. The particular style of each is critical to my self-image. They're my passions! Obsessions! To be around, write about, illustrate. Style may be important and you know it is, but even though you could say that's a "Leah style" house or loft, the type of turf Leah loves, an urban strip beach or country sand spot that works well for a daily or sometimes refuge, they don't truly represent my heart, my abilities, or my sense of call.
Seriously considering, what does represent my dreams? My art and design website—suntreeriver design, so you definitely could say my beach house header painting represents me. This blog! My other main blog, Urban Wilderness.