A ghrá mo chroí

Dreams and goals fascinate me. How they change. How they ebb and flow based on where you find the holes in your life. How hard you’ll work to fill them.

I’ve had lots of dreams. When I was little, I used to boldly assert to my mother that I wanted to be a doctor AND a dog-walker. In high school, I was certain the bright lights of Broadway (or at least an acting conservatory) were calling my name. I’ve wanted to be a mother since about the age of 5.

But right now, I just want stability and rest. I want to be in Austin with Phil. I want to buy a little one-story house in Hyde Park with a yard for a dog. I want an extra bedroom we can make an art/writing studio. I want my hands messy and my eyes heavy from doing work I care about. I want lunch with Michael at Food Heads. I want singalongs with Emily and Casen at the Drafthouse. I want to get as many tattoos as I like in a city that understands that it’s an art form and not an expression of rebellion; I’m not angry about anything or raging against anyone. I want long car trips to be special occasions and not weekly occurrences.

I have a dream about what home looks like. Now it’s time to work for it.