NEEDLING

DRINKING PERRIER AND SCOTCH

Tomorrow is my last day. I’ve barely written about all that. My body is revolting against me. Turning red, burning from the inside out. It’s not because I’m leaving my work, but because I’m about to change my life, leave my friends, go back to a country I had decided never to move back to.

In a month from now, I’ll be on a plane to Texas and I’m stressing about it. All these years in France… all these years yet I’ve never visited the places I wanted to. Because I didn’t have the money to go anywhere, or the time, or the courage. Either I had all the time in the world and absolutely no money – several months behind on my rent, borrowing money from friends and foes, and thus tied down – or I was working full time to pay off the money that I owed, the debts that I owed, et cetera. Either way, I was here in Paris.

Maybe not brave enough to drop everything, grab a small back pack and go on the road. Maybe I don’t know. Tomorrow is my last day at the hotel. This week I must clean my studio. Friday afternoon Pierre invited me to go with him to the Limouzin. If all is done, all is cleaned out, all is taken care off, maybe I can with only a small back pack, a couple change of boxers, maybe I can walk off towards the south and visit those countries I’ve always wanted to visit.

This week however, everything in my studio must be done and over with. I must close this chapter properly and honestly.