I am on a sneaky trip to the US right now and things have been non-stop. I can never see as many people as I would like, I constantly feel guilty about not spending time and catching up with people I love, and jet lag is sitting on my shoulder like some maniacal sleep wizard that hits me at random. It’s sort of the curse of living in a weird place far away.
Since leaving school in London, my brain has been in 5 different places at any given time. I am looking for meaningful work, working on samples, trying to keep up my drawing and designing, catching up with people I haven’t seen in months, and trying to carve out a little time to recharge. Of course I don’t plan for that time, and hope that it randomly presents itself and I can curl up by a window with coffee and a good book like they do in a Nicolas Sparks movie, because that is so much like my life. Anyway, this trip I actually did take the time to carve out a bit of sanity, and took a drive out to one of my favorite places in the world, Nonquitt.
Unless you grew up on the East Coast and have strong ties to whaling history and WASPy behavior, you might not recognize the name “Nonquitt.” It’s a teeny place just south of Cape Cod, full of weather-aged shingled houses, seafood on the grill and fans of birding. I have been going there since I was a baby, my mom has been going there since she was a baby, and there are photos of my grandparents there as teenagers playing baseball. I actually don’t know how long it’s been in the family, but I know its haunted, I know its awesome, and I know there is no place like it.
There are three places in the world that know me: Nonquitt, MA, Egg Harbor, WI, and Tucson, AZ. I don’t even really know what I mean when I say that these places know me, but it feels like being with old friends when I am there, and I can just be myself. I spent less that 24 hours there this time and I feel so recharged, like I was able to shed all the armor of my normal life and just walk around feeling lighter for a few hours. I didn’t do anything special while I was there, I think the feeling just comes from the place and all the memories that flood my brain when I am there.
I’m on the train back to my favorite city in the world, and the urban armor is going back on. I’m not sad about it, but I can definitely feel it. Wondering now about sustainable fashion design houses in small fishing towns in New England. Ethically made lobster bibs? Eh?