Moses wandered 40 years to find home. Took me a bit longer before I could dust the sand out of my hair
If the city of Prague were a woman, there would soon be heard the little pitter-patter of suburbs running down the hallway in my flat.
I don’t think I can adequately convey my feelings about this place. Is Prague my hot mistress, or the kindred spirit I have sought all my whole life who has got me stopping by pawn shop windows looking at antique wedding rings? I am now actively planning the duration so that I can live half my life in America, and the other half in Prague.
I cross the pond in June, for California, where I will host our Fifth Annual Writers and Creatives Reunion in Oceanside. (As I can confirm the date, I will let you know. This year we are going to limit attendance to under a hundred.) Then I head north to the ‘Cow (Moscow, for the the uninitiated), and then, according to desire and plan, back to Prague, where I can be self-supportive, editing my clients who are still in America. (By the way, I have two active clients at the moment, and have room for two more. Send me an email if you have a project to discuss)
In the meantime, here are a few random pictures to help you understand why I am so enamelled–OOPS! enamored of this place.
moderate California traffic:
rush hour outside my fav Prague pub: