I have always seen myself as living in Europe...in a villa in France, a hillside town in Spain, a small city in Germany. And now perhaps, in Tuscany. It really doesn't matter where, the point is that i have always seen myself there.
The books i read when i was barely in my teens set the stage for my wanting to live somewhere other than where i was living...suburbia in Canada.
My European parents and the culture they brought from Germany made me long to go there. And when i did, only ten years old, i feel in love with everything European...fresh bread every morning, bustling streets while just around the corner i could some find some old church that demanded a hush of reverence, the smell of coffee wafting out of small cafes. Put me over there...and i'm in heaven.
I try to duplicate the "European feel" here in Vancouver but something is always missing. My memories of my travels over the ocean are my constant reminder of what i should be doing, need to do.
Dream image: Living part time in Paris.
Reality work: get those cover letters for editors written.
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