Who Am I? and Why Me?

I'm back in Vancouver, a not too shabby spot on the planet to land after a long time in Europe living, eating, loving, and painting ... and blogging about it. We drove from Morruzze to Paris to spend a few days exploring and saying a fond goodbye to Europe, staying in a charming little hotel in the Marais (home to Rabelais).
Today's Thought
Many a trip continues long after the movement in time and space have ceased.
-- John Steinbeck

My re-entry to North America was a very bumpy one, though. I had  had my passport, wallet, cards, etc. stolen in Paris, one of my favorite cities, leaving a cloud hanging over me. I'll spare you the frustrating and exhausting details. But I arrived in Vancouver feeling like a nasty pointed finger was coming down from a dark cloud in the sky and poking right at me.

What did I do wrong? Did I have too much fun in Europe? Did I not mix in sufficient guilt with my dollups of pleasure? Was there some capricious universal principle I'd offended that needed appeasement?  Did I need to curb my enthusiasm?
Another Thought

Travel penetrates your consciousness but not in a rational way.

--Milton Glaser

OK. I know bad things happen to good people. And I'm not even that good. But a whole string of bad things happening? Even after arriving home and the myriad of things you have to do just to re-connect the phone and get the house running, the string of mishaps continued. There were appliances that broke, a computer glitch, things found in the suitcase that had spilled, things not found in the suitcase that should have been there, and more things misplaced or lost in the confusion that was me.

Each day brought a new lament.  I couldn't shake the feeling that it was not only jet-lag I had to endure. but a cloud of misfortune hovering around me. If Ray Bradbury's right about much of the fun of travelling being in the esthetic of lostness, then I should be having a ball! Not so. Lost is how I feel... more now than when travelling. This lost-ness is too concrete and blunt, too externally manufactured (though of course my mindlessness contributed to it), too much of a confederacy of nuisances boiling over into problems to give me anything but a  headache!
Yet Another Possibility
I love to travel but hate to arrive.

--Albert Einstein

Who knows? So, I've been laying low for a while, getting my bearings, cautiously doing what I can each day to put things in order. Trying not to be overwhelmed by the list of things I "have to" do, from getting services reconnected to searching for an affordable studio space in the city.

I have a mid August deadline for a big group juried art exhibit  I'm part of. Hah! it's called Painting On the Edge!  That's where I am right now: on the edge. I've learned (and travelling is part of it)  that artful living involves living earnestly but lightly, intensely but without a heavy footprint. I need to find that way of living here at home....and soon.
Today's Final Thought

He who would travel happily must travel light.

--Antoine de Saint Exupéry

I'm still, trying to collect the bits of light together that make me recognize my own true life while I'm also in the process of reconstructing my official identity here. The sun, at least, is shining graciously. I hear neighbors across the lane having a BBQ. And today, I actually found my long-lost camera!

Tommorrow I venture forth to see some of the friends I've missed.  It's a garden-party. I will try to curb my enthusiasm, just in case.

Once my computer comes back from the repair shop, I'll plan to insert some homecoming artwork for this blog.

Write me, insert comments please. I need some anchor lines.

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