I had one of those dreams last night that seemed really vivid at the time, although now I can’t really remember much about it. I woke up around 6:30, when the world was still half-dark but the birds were starting to chirp. In the dream, I had decided to go to Amsterdam. I was trying to decide the perfect time to go, when the tourist season might have slowed some but the weather was still nice enough for all day wandering. I knew I wanted to go to the Van Gogh museum but couldn’t quite bring out the artist’s name in the dream—though I’m sure that’s the one I was thinking about. For whatever reason, in my dream, Amsterdam seemed like the exact right place to revive my recently lagging interest in photography.
I finished my master’s degree last week. My last class was on Tuesday morning and thought I would feel a sense of relief walking out of there, but I didn’t, not really. I woke up in the middle of the night on Tuesday night convinced I had forgotten to do something important.
On Wednesday, I told myself that I was going to do as close to nothing as possible before I had to work that night. I tried to sleep in but couldn’t really go back to sleep, so it was like self-imposed bedrest. I watched Glengarry Glen Ross, which has been coming up in the weirdest places lately, listed more than once as someone’s favorite movie. I thought it was kind of boring. Then I laid on the couch for a while but couldn’t really sleep since I had just gotten out of bed a few hours ago. It was sort of pathetic, honestly.
One of the requirements of my graduate program is that you complete a semester-long capstone experience, design a poster explaining it, and then stand next to the poster for three hours on the last day of the semester so people can come by and ask you about it. It’s some family members, some first-year students, faculty, most of the project supervisors. Allegedly, some people are there looking for new graduates to hire. I guess some people got business cards but I wasn’t one of them, which didn’t really surprise me. My interests are kind of niche and not the core skills most people expect from graduates of my program. My supervisor came by and was really happy though, so that was nice. And I enjoyed my capstone and learned quite a bit, so it felt like a success. It was a relief to be finished with that final hurdle and to not have to stand there any longer with a smile plastered on my face, trying to look welcoming and I don’t know, available, but also not too needy. It reminded me of craft shows—to each his own, one man’s crocheted potholder is another man’s nightmare, and the last thing you want to do is actively engage with a vendor selling things that don’t interest you. It takes a certain kind of steeliness to put yourself out there though, to present what you’ve made for people passing by to peruse.
I’m thinking the wanderlust dream probably had to do with my new passport arriving. My old one had been expired since September and something about that was making me feel anxious, actually cementing in my mind the fact that I haven’t been anywhere in quite some time and have no future travel plans. There’s a certain irony in the fact that when you have time, you rarely have money, and vice versa. I’m wondering when I’ll next get to take off for a week or two.
For now, I’m taking it easy. It’s looking like I’ll be exploring Austin this summer, maybe other parts of Texas. I’m moving (again) in about a month, this time into a tiny studio for a while, putting almost all of my stuff in storage. I have more to write about that soon.
I have lots more to write, actually. Time and, soon enough, energy to write again, write more, write more often. I’m reading a book for fun. This morning, I went back to sleep and actually had a whole new set of dreams, this time that I was planning for my parents to come and visit me in Córdoba and not in Austin.
Enough space to have travel on the brain again.