When I’m getting a little stressed out at work, I find myself wishing a kind of dream-life scenario in which, oddly, I live and work in a ranch in Canada, with the occasional grilled steak for dinner and a quiet beer at the end of the week. Which, I guess, means that I have two dream-life scenarios for myself after all – that, and the one in which I live in a big cultural city and am a rabidly successful novelist. :p And the two of them can’t be further apart. I’ve always had the writer scenario in my head for a long time, but this ranch one has only come out this year and yet it keeps automatically dominating my imagination whenever my energy levels are failing, like some kind of mental comfort zone. (I never imagine the writer scenario during those times; in fact, I think it would just stress me out even more to do so because it’s a scenario I’m actually trying out for, in one small way or another.)
I must have been brainwashed about the whole North American frontier lifestyle at some point. It’s such a National Geographic picture. The distance and novelty are probably what’s so attractive; it has to be located in vast cedar and redwood forests, not like the jungles and rainforests at home in the Philippines. I think that’s why I’m not very impressed by the idea of the Amazon forests; it’s too familiar already. I demand rugged expanse and a smack of conifers and all that.
I think sometimes I just get a bit claustrophobic in Hong Kong.