Eleven days until I leave this continent
This is just a filler entry to secure this blog and check out how it looks. I've got ten days to my trip. It's coming freakishly close.
I am still doing some last minute prepatations. I have my passport, backpack, sleeping bag, tiny canadian flags. I will also apply for an IYTC this week. I'm trying to wade through FIVE gigantic tomb-like travel books my mom bought me at the last minute, and to pick up some Spanish. I've been reviewing the French, and it's coming back pretty easily. I had no idea I learned that much in Mrs. Noble's grade nine. (Oh by the way, the song, "Knights of Cydonia" but Muse -- is making my eyes tear with pleasure listening to it. Check it out.)
I'm just going about, living my normal, bland Manitoulin existence, and suddenly I am hit by a wave of physical and mental shock; soon I will be no where near my comforts of home, my warm bed and my stereo, the familiar roads and landscapes of Northern Ontario. For so long the trip seemed far in the distance, no matter how much I have thought about it. Now, it is about to become reality. I am excited! I have such an idealist vision of traipsing through cities and villages, happily enamoured by the local culutre, meeting scores of interesting people, sitting in a park or cafe and writing, doing whatever I fancy, when I want to.
However, I do have moments of, "What the hell are you doing?!".... and all alone too. It's all part of the game. When I enter plane, and exit in Spain, I will remain the same.
Actually it's not even worth discussing my expectations, because honestly, what value does such uneducated speculation have? I believe in the frailty and fickle nature of the human mind, but I too often fall into the trap of the whirling monkey mind. To silence my doubt, I just have to remember; I will move forward no matter what.
If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint," then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.
- Vincent Van Gogh