I visited a small town in Utah today.
A town I've not been to for, years. At least, not physically. A place I have some good memories of, but also have some strange reservations about.
The last time I was there, was in a dream of a fictional character, about the real back story of a fictional character they knew, briefly.
Before that, was in a screenplay I was writing (that I kind of let fall by the wayside) when a man meets God and The Devil at the end of the world, in this small town.
There is something intense about having characters walk in your footsteps, then walking in their foot steps again.
Like revisiting your own past, and having memories of things that haven't really happened.
The last time I was there, I visited family. This time, I didn't. I justified it with, I don't like dropping by unannounced. But I know I'm just making excuses. The truth is, what would I have to say? What would they have to say?
I probably should have visited them, just for a few moments. I'll try to be better next time. It's all I can do at this point.
I did visit the graves of my Grandma and Grandpa; something I
don't do very often. Most graves of people I know, I didn't know that
well, and, like my grandparents graves, are far away from my stomping grounds.
All in all, I'm glad the journey happened. It was interesting, and good to get out of the house. Even if I am typing this at midnight when I have work early the next day.
A spontaneous journey that will likely lead to more carefully planned journeys, that will likely inspire and accomplish artistic endeavors.This spontaneous journey reminded me of the memories from childhood. The conversations on the long drive (hahaha 2 1/2 hours each way isn't all that long), the shared experience of just wandering for the sake of wandering.
To the future, at a speed we still can barely comprehend.
