Sitting here trying to think about what my life will be like in a couple years or so.
I used to dream about living in a huge city. One where the buildings are always towering over you. Surrounded by coffee and old record shops. Living in a tiny loft apartment with my dog. Band and movie posters cluttering the wall, filled with d.i.y. experiments and stacks and stacks of books. A place where at any time, you can find people with amazing stories, unique style, and a nack for finding the coolest places.
At night I’d find myself at a show, talking design or running under street lights. God and music would keep me going. I would take pictures of everything. I would only eat what I could find at farmer’s markets. I would ditch my car for a sturdy bike with a basket on the back. Get involved in a church with a small congregation. Bless strangers with what God gives me.
In some ways I still want this picture that I’ve had for quite some time, yet in some ways it feels too safe. Though sometimes safe is good, other times safe looks too much like settling. How could one ever know the difference?