In case you didn’t already know it, New York is a magical city. You can walk through Central Park and come across a zoo and a sidewalk bookshop all within a few feet of each other.
You can find chalk drawings and people blowing bubbles.
You can become acquainted with Alice from Alice in Wonderland.
I went to a reading for the Love Magick (it’s on sale for $2.99 right now!) anthology some of my friends contributed to.
I did a lot of wandering around on my own and I think that was the most magical part. It was liberating to be by myself in a city that’s mostly foreign to me. Some one recently said to me, “Being in New York City alone makes you realize how big the world is” and I completely agree. From the morning bus ride to Hello Kitty stopping me on the street to all of the confusion trying to get the right bus home (street side bus terminals have no order to them). You don’t realize how big this world is until you’re sitting beside a girl on the bus who is on the phone talking, alternating between French and English and crying. You don’t realize how different life is for someone else until you’re watching street performers dancing.
This is exactly what Wanderlust is for me. Making my world a little bit smaller. Wandering. Discovering. Allowing other cultures to soak in. It’s about the need I feel to go places and experience life outside of my comfort zone. It’s so easy for me to fall into the normal comfortable patterns. But when I do that, I miss out on trying green celery/apple juice. I miss out on meeting incredible people I’ve only ever e-mailed before. I miss out on finding the Checkers tables in Central Park that I read about when I was fifteen in the Fearless series. I miss out on the magic of everywhere else.