every day i think of what my life would be like if i just picked up and moved. chucked it all and started an artist's life in a warm, dry place. i could live in a pair of worn-thin levi's and a drawer full of shirts and bikinis. i could write and read with complete focus. and i could live on cash and close my credit card accounts, tugging those balances down to a smug zero. escape to the desert, date a cowboy and adopt a dog.
