Until all is lost to the beauty of the day
This is new for me; two post in consecutive days.
While I highly subscribe to the doubt my conscience has placed on the regularity of such a feat, it may just occur again, but unlikely for that day to be tomorrow. A tri-fecta at this point in my blogging career is just too lofty a goal.
I actually wrestled with the notion of posting something tonight. It’s Saturday. It’s 10:30 p.m. I should be doing a laundry list of things that is far too long to list, rather than become mesmerized by the soft glow of my computer screen. I should turn on a light, but I have a slight headache, so I really don’t know if it’d do more good than harm, but alas, I’m sticking with the light off.
I came across a picture tonight, that, without explaining the rationale behind why I sought it out in the first place, has captivated my imagination, and in theory, should direct me to writing a more tangible piece of literary genius (if I do say so myself). However, the other area in which I would otherwise jot these thoughts won’t be read for a very long time, if ever - depends on if someone is just crazy enough to publish my book one day. So here it is, for the one and only reader I know I have. Despite her own admission to reading this simply to cure boredom, I opted for this route instead.
While I haven’t posted said picture yet (because I don’t know if I can include it in this post or have to post again - I’m still new to this blog stuff, so cut me some slack) it is a place I think I would like to visit one day. If I like it, maybe I’ll stay longer, but for one fleeting evening, when the sun has just gone down and the lights of this small piece of worldly Utopia flicker on, I would like to be there.
I’ve often dreamed of living in the “city”. Now, don’t get this confused with the idea of a place like Toronto or Vancouver, because I have an image of city life that is all my own. While it will likely prove to be false, and this creative imagery I’ve attributed to city life will undoubtedly turn out to be nothing more than the image I see when I close my eyes, I hope to find it one day.
I’ve lived in places that are not exciting, at least by standards given by those who’ve experience so much more, and that’s cool, I can live with that. But as I age, and each day passes, seemingly quicker than the previous, I find myself yearning for this illusionary vision to become reality. I’m torn between falling in love with the idea of places being open at all hours of the night, so that when I can’t sleep or have too much on my mind, I’m not confined to the walls in which I call home, I have somewhere to go. On the other hand, I enjoy the solitude that is associated with the small town aura that exists miles away on the blacktops that take us to and fro, from country to city.
I enjoy the idea of being able to walk down the street at night, lamp posts plastered with flyers, each telling a story that is both unique and unoriginal at the same time. I enjoy the idea of passing people desperately trying to hail a cab at 2 a.m. on some busy streeth where they compete with countless others, all of whom appear to be from different walks of life. I enjoy the image I get when I think of spending a Sunday afternoon walking through the busy streets of (insert city here) perusing some type of market and experiencing cultures and lifestyles that I have never been privy to up to this point.
On the other hand, I enjoy walking into a convenience store and knowing the store owners name, and they mine, and having a substantive conversation. I enjoy the piece of mind that goes along with knowing that certain places will be closed at certain times, and should I find the necessity of one of their products, I’ll have to get there in a timely fashion. I also enjoy the peace and quiet that drapes over a town when the sun sets on a Tuesday night, those who spend their days working in the town already settled into bed, flipping on the television to catch the nightly news or tomorrow’s weather.
It’s the classic battle between simple and complicated; quiet and loud; ying and yang.
I like the battle though, it’s challenging. I think we all need to experience both before we can become completely satisfied with one way of life or the other. I’m jealous of those who currently reside in the “big city” (I’m looking at you Terri) and those who are settled into bed already in the quaint, soft-spoken town in rural Alberta. I think I know which I prefer, but then again, I haven’t quite fully experienced both sides to build up an accurate stance one way or the other. Combine that with the idea that my own “city” experience may or may not be real and you’ve got a cluster of mixed emotions on the subject.
All I know is that I have bought into the theory that the grass is greener on the other side, and that those somewhere else are enjoying life more than I. I’m not necessarily complaining, but I am looking to get out; to experience. I hope that day is in the near, not the distant, future, and that the image I have attributed with my “city life” is not a pipe dream that turns out be less accurate than a three-year-old doing calculus.
