Sunday, April 21, 2013
About a year ago my ex-boyfriend and I went out to dinner at one of our favorite Manhattan restaurants, BackForty. The future lay ahead of me like a terrifying/wonderful blank canvas. I'd just quit my job and made the commitment to try to live a life more authentic. Jacob asked me what I wanted to do next, and I started day dreaming out loud about a dream I'd had for a while: to buy a vintage trailer and travel across America. I turned the paper menu over, and scribbled a little canned ham trailer with me as a stick figure, smiling ear to ear. It was an silly idea that would never happen in a million years.
A year earlier in England, I'd picked up a cook book called The Wild Gourmets, written by a couple who traveled across England, hunting, camping in their VW bus, and cooking amazing gourmet meals. It was the sort of thing that I dream about when NY felt dirty, smelly and covered in asphalt.
I pinned the sketch to my inspiration board to be forgotten.
This month I decided it was finally time to pack up my home, and say goodbye to my life in NY. The sketch is still pinned to my wall, calling to me with absurdity, but also a little bit of 'Why the hell not!?' When in my life time and I going to be untied down, with no rent, mortgage or real responsibilities? Why not take my sweet ass time to get to my destination? Why not take the long road? Why not see what America looks like on the ground? Why not get inspired by the people I meet? Why not travel to see all my friends across America, cooking them yummy meals out of the retro kitchen, drinking wine and watching the sun set from our deck chairs?