This weekend my friends came to visit while on their way to Old Forge. Francis and Flori are near and dear to my heart, I was one of the best men at their wedding and I read a terrifically awful speech about the soundtrack of their relationship. They insist that I’m too hard on myself, but I secretly know that while it was heartfelt, I definitely killed the mood, whereas our friend Chris—who shared my best man responsibilities—told a funny story and I should have gone with something more light-hearted rather than annoyingly sentimental. Anyway, Francis and Flori came up this weekend, and they are expecting their first child. Along with them my COLLECTIVE collaborator Christopher Irving stopped around, and we all talked about how lives have changed and progressed since I left NY, and I can’t help but feel some remorse that I’m no longer there to share in their adventures, or know when I’ll be able to make it there to see them again. With the Stock family embarking on this new adventure, I can’t help but feel out of the loop since this is the first time since 2003 that Francis and I have been separated by five hours. For seven years in New York we hung out almost every weekend so it has been a bit difficult for me to not see him on a regular basis anymore.
I hate to say it but it’s impossible to not compare the two. Great things are happening to me since I made the choice to come home: my new job teaching at Paul Smith’s, Mogul and the stuff we’re building, the Regional Theater Development project, and all the other things currently going on, but I can’t help but think that not so much has really changed.
Besides my facial hair.
I’m up to my neck in stuff to do, and have begun corresponding with one of my colleagues at Paul Smith’s as we’re embarking on our freshman effort at teaching composition. My life here is doing exactly what I hoped: it gives me the opportunity to do the things I care about that New York was not doing for me. This is all great and now I firmly live in the thought that choosing to come here was the right thing for me to do. At the same time, I have thoughts on whether I’ll ever be able to do anything but work. Primary among those thoughts is will I find love besides my work? Will I be able to juggle all of it?
My parents continually say that you move to New York or whatever other big city to figure out what you want to do and where you want to live the rest of your life. After you’ve made your choice, that city goes on long after you’ve left; your friends, colleagues, and connections you made continue, and you end up in the place where you can explore your full potential. I wonder if I’ve become less interesting since leaving New York or more? I feel like I’m heading in the right direction, but more than anything else I’m addicted to my work, and I don’t think I have time for anything else, and this makes me very sad.