I’m a wanderer. Born in one country, birthed my children in another, and enjoying my middle years in a third. Now I wonder: Where do I belong? Who are my people? How can I reach them?
In 1631 the French philosopher Rene Descartes wrote about living in Amsterdam: “… everybody is so intent on making a profit that I could spend my whole life here without anyone being aware of my presence.” Almost 400 years later in Southern California, I too feel invisible. I hope that once I start blogging and if someone (apart from my mother) responds to what I’ve written, I’ll feel more connected.
Most of my musings will be from behind my cash register in the book store of an art museum where I work, but I’ll also include snippets about my family, friends, and my wanderings.