The end of the week is here and I’m looking forward to the weekend. It’s been one of those weeks. Listening to my audio books, I’m trying to keep my mind focused on the work I need to do right now but it’s hard to fight the urge to search for apartments in Paris.
In the back of my mind, I see laptop in the window perched like a cat as I look out my window through a quiet winding street. Writing in Paris, this is something on my bucket list. Travel to me is like breathing because being in a new city brings in a sight, a new sound, and a new experience. Yet, I also feel like I have a home when I’m away. Does this make sense to you?
Like other writers I’m listening to, I feel like I have a home, an anchor when I in some other city. I don’t know if I’ll every make a permanent move but I’ve thought about living in some other city, some other country for a few years to see what it does for my creativity, my art and writing. Maybe, deep down I feel like in order to find my voice, I need to travel somewhere else to find my home.
I don’t know what you have planned for this weekend but my fingers might wander to view Paris apartments this weekend while I dream. I hope you find your city. Until next week.
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