November, an hour ago.
I was wondering why people moving to another country would come back and forth in their lives pretty regularly. Obligations. Now I know.
Meanwhile, constant comparison between my life in California and my life in Ile de France. Just putting them together in the same sentence sounds weird. Who wins? Nobody wins. Through different lenses, different angles and different distances, there are preferences. It’s an endless mind game.
These days I tend to feel an unlimited amount of creativity in L.A. while I feel most at peace in the City of Light. That actually sums it up very well.
Sometimes in France people tell me “tu remontes là-haut?” which means “are you going back up there?”, like the USA are obviously an upgrade or inaccessible, higher. It’s always sounded exciting as hell, especially from France’s countryside. So when I look around me and see a typical US street like on TV when I was a kid and that I’d dream of riding my bike there, it’s always a bit surreal. And still exciting.
Obviously, there’s much more to living somewhere than just spacing out at a LA stop. The American Dream these days looks like a spinning bottle going faster and faster pointing at two things:
It’s total bullshit and always has been.
It’s possible to make it.
It might not matter at all. For now it’s the classic, weird blues a couple of weeks ahead of switching back to Paris for a while.