My feet are currebntly absurdly ‘itchy’, most likely because my least loved season has truly set in. I despise the cold. It sallows my soul and turns me into a different person completely.
So I do as I normally do as soon as it becomes dark by 4.30 and I find myself both leaving for and returning from work in the darkness, I plan. I plan obsessively new journeys, new trips and new experiences. And I plan how I’m going to achieve them by becoming frugal and attempting to suppress the materialistic streak that devastates my bank account. But now my dreams are getting out of hand…
What started as a potential minimum of two months in India and six in Australia is getting far beyond that point… and China, mainly thanks to Maxine Hong Kingston’s beautiful text ‘The Woman Warrior’ is firmly within my radar. But how? Financially I can not afford to spend a year or my life a la Kerouac, although I think that Christopher McCandless was a man with aspirations similar to my own, I am not brave enough or free enough to abandon everything and risk a slow and painful death in an abandoned bus. Instead I’m trying to be, forcing myself to be practical. I need to earn abroad… so Australia and fruit picking, why the hell not. Right now I think it’s just what the doctor ordered and hopefully I can also blag myself a 6 month teaching contract in China at the same time (Please Brian, Please…..) Anyhow… the more I plan, the more I shall update. Until then this is my reading list (in no particular order)
Between the Assassinations by Aravind Adiga (I lie, this is the first I’m already 100 pages in)
A House in Bali by Colin McPhee
A Single Swallow by Horatio Clare
Women who run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes
The Music Room by William Fiennes