When I was younger I became infatuated with Venice, Italy. The canals, gondolas, waterside buildings – it was just so awesome-looking.
What’s not to love about it?
When you’re young and impressionable, you get caught up in the fantasy of “what if.” You look at possibilities as this untouchable reality, where you can do anything, be anyone and live anywhere. So I chose Venice, Italy.
As I got older, the thought that I would visit my childhood crush city became complicated. I rationalized that while it was still possible, the reality of my everyday life made it seem less likely to happen. Not because it’s wasn’t doable, but because I lost that innocent naivete that dreamed of writing poetry on gondolas.
Now I’ve “grown up” for whatever it’s worth, and Venice, Italy became my version of Drop Dead Fred. I go onto Pinterest with a bittersweet spirit. I love to indulge in the “what ifs” of my younger years but know that fantasy and reality rarely intersect.
An unintentional compromise
Wanderlust is an amazing feeling. It gives you the fire to step outside of your comfort zone and dive into foreign worlds. This was my catalyst for re-connecting with my Venice, Italy fantasy. Lucky for me there’s a quaint little area called Venice, CA.
Small canals looping around, connecting multi-million dollar homes serve as the unintentional compromise for me. Gondolas masquarade as canoes, tilted to the sides of these homes. I picture a short cubby Italian man steering them along the way.
In my mind I am in Venice, Italy even though my outside world tells me otherwise. This is the beauty of daydreaming, a hobby I’ve long neglected. You can go anywhere and be anyone, even when you’re not. I forgot what it was like to live in a daydream, but then I came here to Venice, CA and remembered what being innocently aspirational was like.
This whimsical state of mind was sorely missed over the past 30+ years.