My choice to move back to Pensacola was not entirely my own. Long story, that one...and not for telling here.
I must say - that only six months after arriving - I'm quite bored with it already. This town is as beige/Wal-Mart/gray t-shirt as a town gets. More churches and personal injury lawyers than could ever be utilized by the populace. Hotwings and chain restaurants on every corner but a paucity of fine dining and virtually no live music venues. The symphony is the one shining beacon of culture here and I attend every performance. They're quite good. Otherwise...where art is concerned...painted sea shells and sand sculpture about sums up the scene. Bible thumpers abound, assisting everyone to feel quite guilty if The Lord's name isn't inserted in every third sentence. A goodly 5% or so of the female population wear 3/4 length denim or khaki skirts so their sinful knees won't be seen by covetous and lustful on-lookers.
I'm marooned here for not less than another 2 and 1/2 years. I'll muddle through. I can tell you however, that I don't see any chance of artistic inspiration striking. I don't wish for it - and I'll be taking a few steps to try and ignite a little fire (taking some classes on Adobe PS)....but I don't hold out any real hope.
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