It's a fickle idea, home. Something that I've wrestled with for quite some time, and an idea that never seems to leave my mind. I've realized I'm not there yet. And with that, an adventurous year opens up: 12 trips in 12 months. I'm more than ready to see what this country has to offer. I'm only assuming during my travels in the coming year that it will worsen, but hopefully along the way I can find a place to belong.
(Maybe).
Nashville, as it turns out, was nothing that I had hoped it to be. There are few opportunities, few things that interest me, and no communities that I feel like I can be a part of. There are plenty of opportunities for some, lots of things to do for others, and communities already established, but I just don't see myself as part of the "big picture". I've met some really great people, but I've also met some terrible people too. Nashville seems to have more of the latter, at least for me.
When I arrived in Philly, I took the train into the City Center. I gazed out the window; I thought of how much I missed riding trains. The train would go through tunnels and for a brief second I gazed at my reflection before the graffitied buildings came back into view. It was so colorful and the urban decay had so many stories. Nashville doesn't have that for me. I don't wander the streets (which is hard to do anyway, there aren't a lot of sidewalks; this isn't a city for pedestrians) and want to take constant photos, or write down what I'm seeing. I've barely taken any photos of this place; in fact, I think my favorite photo I've taken is the one above, and it was while I was leaving Nashville. I'm just not inspired.
But I'm glad that's something that I've realized, it only took me two years. I'm not sure what it's going to take to make me happy. Skyscrapers? Mountains? Oceans, rivers, or lakes? At any rate, it's still out there. And it's nice to know the journey continues.