waiting

my travels have yet to begun. today i am sitting in a house - the house i grew up in - which resides in a small town in the middle of a small island off the western coast of Canada. it's beautiful here. arguably the most beautiful and best place to live in the world. yet. something tugs at me, at my heart, to go. to run. to be out there seeing things i haven't seen, meeting people i haven't met. i guess that's to be expected of someone my age. but i don't want to just do the tourist backpack thing, set foot in each European country just long enough to say that i've been there, i've seen that, i've tasted that. that shoebox experience holds no interest for me. in the words of our most frequent customer at the bakery [three times a day to be exact] "be a traveller, not a tourist". 

so here i am waiting, putting in my time, hoping to make something valuable out of my next few months here. i'm writing this as my first entry with probably more to follow as these are the months that i'm allowing myself to dream of what's to come, where i'm to go, who i will meet, what i will photograph, where i will live. the plan changes all the time and i'm ok with that. as for where i will end up? there's only One who knows.