Should fate unkind send us to roam the scent of the fragrant pines, the tang of the salty sea will call us home.

I’m not even sure where to begin.

Well, I’ve been in Maine for five weeks now.  I leave in two days.  This time Sunday, I’ll be in Connecticut with any luck, on my way back to the big bad apple.

I am a changed person, to be sure. For the first time since moving to New York eleven years ago, I was away without a single pang of homesickness.  Not once, not once, did I feel a longing for New York.  Last year, I was away for one week and couldn’t wait to get back.

Maine has taken me captive.  I have fallen in love and fallen hard with the small costal towns I’ve been privy to.  The lull of the water lapping with shore as I fall asleep at night.  The super friendly hellos from every single person I pass on my morning run. The vendors at the farmer’s market who actually remember me from week to week.  The sailing instructor who welcomed me back to rent a boat, and promptly helped to rescue me in a surprise storm. The lobster.  The stars, unlike I’ve ever seen anywhere else.  The two full moons I was granted while staying here.  The icy cold water off the end of the pier at Ames.  The lush gorgeous green.  The sight of sails all the time.  The seven tall ships that greeted me one morning.  The amazing artistic community that is supported within this fishing village.  The chocolatier’s cafe located on a nearly uninhabited island. The difficult hiking trails of Acadia, that lead to the most stunning views (and sense of accomplishment.)  The unending sky over the harbor.  The lupines, nightshade, and buttercups.  Serenity.

I’m dreading leaving in the very worst way.

Prior to coming here, I had been toying with the idea of leaving New York. DC had been on my horizon, for both personal and professional reasons. (I’d been denying the personal reasons, but I’m a liar to say otherwise.) I couldn’t put my finger on why I wanted to leave New York so badly, I still can’t, but what is clearer to me is that it’s not about New York.  With the right amount of money New York could be my dreamland.  But I don’t foresee ever having enough money for that to happen.  I want to be in a place where I don’t feel like I’m constantly struggling.  Where I can save some money and pay my bills.  Where I might feel like a grown up.  And where I’m happy just to be.

I started looking for jobs elsewhere.  Anything in my field: Production, Events, Stage Managing, etc.  I put in applications for things in College Park, MD, Annapolis, and Hilton Head, SC.  I am willing to give New York another chance, now that I’ve changed a bit, but if the right opportunity came to move on, I’d jump.

Something else that I’ve been doing while I’ve been here is taking a lot of pictures.  I’m thinking about organizing a show of my photography of Deer Isle.  When I mentioned this to a gallery owner in Stonington, she immediately suggested that I send her my portfolio when it’s ready. She said that they would be very interested in showing my work.


I just want to say, this has been such an incredible experience.  I have really loved my life this past month.  My depression lifted almost completely with little effort from me.  I’ve slowed down, taken time for myself, and not felt guilty about it.  I’ve been working, but the work has been wonderful.

There is simply no way to write down everything I’m feeling right now.  I’m not a good enough writer.  I’m just trying to over load my senses with my new love, Maine, before I go.

I will be back as soon as humanly possible.  This is my paradise. Lost.

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