The Crow Bookshop in Burlington is one of my favorite places. In my self-discovery quest, I’ve learned a few things. One is that it’s important to know what you love and, sometimes, why you love it. Not to get too dreamy and dramatic, but sometimes my old soul and heart ache for a place that no longer exists. I know that, there were cobblestone streets, foggy mornings, and a bell that rang over the door when I burst through it.
I know that I’m sometimes an artist. I like to collect trinkets and images and piece them together to weave a story.
For as long as I can remember, I thought that I had to be one thing, to master one thing. And, my reluctance to do that made me feel like a failure.
I felt I was too much and loved too many things. But how silly is that? How can it be wrong to love so many things? My life is a collage of past lives and loves. And I owe it to myself to explore all of those wondrous moments. There is no need to try to label myself as any one thing. It might seem intoxicating to be remembered as “the artist” or a writer or a great musician. But I’d much rather live a life of wonder & exploration while doing all things in perfect mediocrity.
Maybe that’s just an excuse to be lazy and not put in the work to better myself, but in all honesty, I’m okay with that too. This is self-love and acceptance. I’m pasting things
onto a page and seeing what “sticks.” I’m putting in the work, and sometimes I’m not. I’m enjoying wandering and stopping to visit the places that feel like home.
