SAFE HARBOR
(Posted 2008-09-15 11:21:07 by ArchPaladin)

I had to go in to work this past Saturday for a support convention.  My
sleep schedule is a little off as a result, and I'm not sure if I can catch
up this week.

The convention on Saturday was actually right near the Long Wharf in Boston
- a place I had never been to before.  I got there a little earlier than I
had to, and I spent most of that extra time wandering around the area to
see what it was like.  The area is part of Boston harbor, so I walked a few
piers, looked out over the ocean, saw a couple houseboats, walked over
stonework set into some piers in the shape of a compass, and so on.  At one
point I encountered a group of French tourists who seemed to strike up a
conversation with a homeless person _in French_, which made me feel like I
was in the twilight zone.

I also found out that the harbor is across the street from Quincy Market,
which was a surprise, as I have been to Quincy multiple times in the past.

During a break in the convention I wandered into a park that contained the
Boston Arts Festival.  There were a number of eclectic music and dance
performances, as well as rows of vendors hawking their paintings, ceramics,
beaded and metal jewelry, and other unusual crafts.  The most interesting
of these was a glassblowing troupe [ http://www.diabloglassschool.com/ ]
[diabloglassschool.com] that had set up a small shop at the far end of the
festival and was demonstrating the creation of different glass objects.  I
has an involved and pleasant conversation with one of the demonstrators
about the trade.

It was both cathartic and insightful to walk around the area aimlessly.  It
is not something that I usually do, although I am trying to do it more
often.  I think there is an unusual feeling that comes with having no
direction to pursue, and traveling (or wandering, in this case) simply for
its own sake.  The entire world slows down, and there is infinite time to
examine nuances of detail or fill the senses.  People watching becomes more
interesting.

I have thought about taking time to travel around the country, or world, or
wherever the wind blows.  Not just take a vacation, but _travel_ in the
extended length, vagabond sense of the word.  Most of the time I believe
these feelings are a reaction to stress - my mind expressing its need to
escape and unwind a little.  Other times I'm not so sure, and I wonder if I
really do have a mild form of wanderlust.  I wonder if I will ever actually
mindlessly travel, however.  My intended careers are not something that can
be easily picked up and moved at whim, and I would not know how to support
myself otherwise.

Perhaps in the next life.

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