There is much irony in the fact that I had to fly 3,000 miles to feel settled. Things are pretty good here in New York: I have a bed to sleep in (with comfortable sheets, even!), a clean room, and good friends around. My commute is 30 minutes, and I read the entire way back and forth, giving me a solid hour-a-day to engross myself in an alternate reality. I'm missing the gorgeous 80-degree weather that hit California this week, but New York has cleared up since the recent cold spell; I'm looking out over the water at a gorgeous muted-orange sky, while listening to a beautiful cover of Annie's Song from a shiny, silver iPod Mini.
I realized the other day that as soon as I have commitments in my life beyond my control, I will have to give up some of the things I do. I've been telling my friends that I'm finally relaxed because all I have to do aside from my 45-hr/week job is maintain Wetpixel, which only takes a few hours a day (although it's not unusual for me to work on the site for up to six hours after getting back home from work, if I have no social events planned for the evening).
I'm neglecting the cello, I don't read unless I'm on the subway, television is inconvenient to watch, I'm out of touch with movies, and obviously, I'm not able to get in the water.
Time-wise, life has somehow resumed a course on track with what it was like when I had a "normal" job (except that back then my time outside of work was consumed by music instead of by Wetpixel). The relative stability is nice, but come May, carefully-controlled chaos will toss me back into a crazy travel schedule. However, I'm going to try not to accept too many ancillary responsibilities for the rest of the calendar year, so all my time at "home" can be spent with friends. Please encourage me to decline, if I bring up something I'm thinking about doing. :)