We’ve arrived in Texas.  I put my wife (and unborn child) on a plane last Wednesday.  It’s now the next Friday, and I’m already here with 1,400 miles of desert spun beneath my feet.  My father flew out to L.A. to help me load and pack the truck, and once it was we stuck out driving along the seemingly unending stretch of road that comprises Interstate 10.  Although it took almost three full days of driving, the trip went by quickly.  My wife and her parents met us at the new place and we unloaded the truck and were inside—among boxes, anyway—within a few hours.  I’m near Lake Travis, and it’s gorgeous.  Strangely, it still hasn’t quite sunk in that I’ve moved from Los Angeles.  I think this is due to the fact that it happened so fast.  From decision to move to actual execution of everything was a mere month and a half.

The late winter desert in Arizona was crisp and cool, and the saguaro south of Phoenix and Tuscon looked like a million spiny people waving us back east. Hundreds of miles of signs kept trying to entice us to stop and see THE THING? at the Arizona-New Mexico border. (If you want to save 2 bucks I’m pretty sure The Thing is a mummified woman and her baby, but stop by and decide for yourself.) The rocky brown peaks near Las Cruces and El Paso reminded me of the last time I made this drive and the lonesome feeling of my car breaking down outside of Pecos, TX in the middle of the Permian Basin on a Sunday six years ago. Thankfully, that didn’t happen this time. The only thing that hiccupped the trip was striking wind that would hit the cube of the truck and send it rocking back and forth like an unbalanced hull in the ocean.

So now what?  The job search begins in earnest next week, so if you know anyone in the Austin area who needs someone who can edit films, make relatively simple websites, shoot photographs and write, please tell them to email me!  Otherwise your prayers and thoughts are welcome. 

I was in Target the other night just getting some things for the new house.  As I was shopping, I noticed something: there were only about 40 people shopping in the store.  At the Burbank Target there were hardly any empty parking spaces and the store was always filled to capacity with people; so much so it frustrated me most times.  This Target in Texas was practically empty.  I love it.  Part of our desire in moving back to Texas was to just slow our pace down a little for the baby.  There are plenty of people here to be sure, but the density is a little more even and spread out over the hills. 

Drifting in my thoughts, I often wonder what’s in store for my life.  From here among the mesquite, sagebrush, and live oak, I see good things and a quieter more contented life.

These sunsets and cleaner air really are worth something, at least. Right now I’m looking at the unhindered view of a thousand thousand stars and listening to the constant chirrup of a cricket outside my window. Things have changed, but I feel it in my bones it is for the better.