Almost a year ago, I wrote a poem about finding my voice in a sea of shouting people. Since then I have attempted to cultivate my voice. I have been keeping a daily journal, I have written more in the past four months than I have in the past decade, and I have stabilized my life. I am not where I thought I would be, I am not who I thought I would be, but I am getting there. My goals have changed, but I have gained some wisdom and some experience.
I want to write. I want to publish. I want to tell people true and unreal tales. I want to travel and share my experiences- I want my perception of the world to be known and hopefully enjoyed by other people. I want my own business, where my nine to five feels like the weekend. I need to get out of the mundane and into my own sense of nirvana.
I am content with life, but I am missing fulfillment. This year I have planned to get out of my comfort zone and write about my experiences. I am going to four music festivals this year. The smallest excursion is this weekend in Kansas City to the Middle of the Map Festival. It's a newer fest and there is one band playing that I have looked forward to seeing since their first album was released: Lord Huron. More on them later!
I also plan to actually blog. For anyone perusing, you will notice this blog has been a long struggle to stay consistent and formulate my thoughts. This is practice, this a place where I can write about my deviations from normal life. So for posterity, I am leaving up all past posts, except one (no one wants to read that kind of sob story on a blog mostly about traveling, books, and music [potentially]).
This is an invocation for beginnings, however many beginnings it takes to continue and eventually succeed. There have been so many starts and restarts in my life and I don't feel good about that, but I should. I haven't given up. I am ok, I am human, I have a lifetime ahead of me.
So this is another evoked beginning. Stay tuned for the ultimate music fest summer. Coming up: Middle of the Map, Wakarusa, LouFest, and Austen City Limits. With deviations to the strange hills of the Ozarks.