Notebooks from a Creative Capital Foundation workshop has me writing one, three, five and ten year goals. Then it asks me to write an obituary. Although it sounds like a morbid task, it does put every goals into perspective. Now I'm nosing through the New York Times obits only to find one on Isabella Blow. When her rich grandfather escapes gambling debt by fleeing to Kenya where "he joined the Happy Valley set of alcoholic, aristocratic semi-exiles." It's no wonder when expatriates are thought of as privileged vagabonds. I flash back to a squirrel seen yesterday—specifically to his skip, skip, leap, skip and his simple joy found in movement—maybe in less cynical terms, that is what all the moving is about...
