I Dream of Strange Places

This image was selected as a picture of the we...

Image via Wikipedia

Like you, I dream of fantastic things.  I call myself a space pirate captain because, in my mind, I want to be out there.  You know, that Shatneresque “out there” that implies boldly going and exploring strange new worlds and all that.  Maybe even the occasional green woman here and there, but mostly I’m interested in the new scenery.

Fortunately my line of work involves a bit of travel- more so than most cubicle-dwellers, I’m sure.  Thus far, though, it’s only been around the USA.  I’m not complaining- there are some amazing things to see in every state (even New Jersey).  In fact, I’m sure there are people who already envy the amount of getting around I’ve done in the past few decades, but I still find myself less than satisfied.

I dream of mountaintops wreathed in clouds (like Machu Picchu).  I dream of cliffside temples where Buddhist monks spend their entire lives just trying to learn how to be quiet.  I dream of Antarctic tundra where only penguins, Russian scientists, and crazy bastards dare to tread (I mostly envision that view from the inside of something with heated cup holders).

As much as I’m sure there is to see out there, I could spend several lifetimes just seeing what’s around here.

I Write What I Dream

This is why I write.  Hell, my latest effort- The Lives of Dexter Peterson -is practically a catalogue of places I’d like to see.  I’ll never be able to see 17th-century Jamaica, but maybe I can see what it’s become in the last 400 years.  I may or may not be able to visit a space station before I die, but that just means Antarctica isn’t too far by comparison.  I’ve never been to France, Germany, England, or anywhere else outside of North America.

But I will.  Part of the reason I write is because I am there whenever I’m creating something.  I put pen to paper because these narrative fantasies let me explore even while I yet lack the resources to do so in person.  Who knows, maybe the next blog post will come from somewhere out in deep space.

What places do you dream about?  When you close your eyes and try to make your manager’s voice go away, what scene fills your mind?  Write about it, please, and let me know where your mind spends its vacation time.

The Democratically Elected Best of Matthew Ebel Join the Robot Army, get a FREE album!

* indicates required

Enlist Today!