Aug 22

Aug 22 Same Ole Sunset

By Nyles Pollonais

I think I realized that I took the artist’s way out—years of having feet in both worlds, all the while knowing what my heart clung to. It was the ability to live a life that did not revolve around the world I knew. Finding my way was complicated and, at times, discouraging. In those moments, I turned to my art—my writing, my music, my paintings, and my self expression. It should have been a sign all along. This was for me, yet I still had to survive in that world.

Touching Spain for the first time revealed something within myself. I felt a sense of adventure, but more importantly, I felt like I was becoming. It was more than just a new chapter in life; it was the next step in my development. Almost like something clicked. I wasn’t finished growing, and I felt that viscerally—a connection to a higher form that no amount of old friends, classic memories, or comfortable ways of life could separate me from. The feeling scared me. It was intimidating, large, enormous even. I was filled with thoughts like, “But… how?” “What will you do?” “How can you?” Those weren’t mine, though—they were those of anxiety.

I thought the other day that I was finally ready. I thought back to my undergraduate years when everyone was traveling internationally. It wasn’t that I couldn’t—it was a thought I just never entertained. A part of me knew internally that I could not leave given the circumstances. I knew I had to be present, in touch, nearby, and visible. Those times, though rough and inescapable, are core memories of the person I am becoming. They are also fond memories of my mother, my father, my brother, my grandparents, my uncles and aunts, cousins, and friends. I needed that time. But as I approach 30, I am filled with the love that I gleaned from those times. Entering this new journey is now about the development of personal character, being, and potential.

I’m a little over a month away from anything major, but my spirit tells me that it is coming, no matter what. They really mean it when they say, “Be careful what you ask for because it just might happen.” The muscle memory of past failures doesn’t even enter my body at this point. They have all melted away into the fabric that is life—flat and etched into the larger story at hand. I think of the possibilities, the permutations of all that can go well, and the person I can become. It’s deep, like butterflies, but more like a whale at the bottom of your stomach. When you think of it, it weighs on you, creating a deep well that feels endless. Something has been emptied. A door has been shut, creating space for more.

I want to see new colors, new pictures, and the same old sunset in a new light. I want to know new words, new thoughts, and the connections that result. New relationships and a new presentation invite me into this. I want to fly. Most importantly, I want to learn. This is the only growth that concerns me presently. The greatest project ever created is yourself. That is how you become the best for those around you. A whole, complete, tried, and tested individual is the most valuable asset to any group. I will never let those of you who support me down, but above all, I won’t let myself down. I charge into the artist’s way of life in full force.

As I mentally prepared for my departure, I wrote the previous piece. I reflected on the journey it’s taken me to get here, but also the journey I’m about to embark on. For those of you who do not know, I am preparing to move to Valencia, Spain to teach English for a year - possibly more. I’m truly excited, but also a bit nervous. I’m committed to this, and ready for the change. In a way, this is also most likely my last article. It’s time for something new. I will always appreciate the care, kindness, and freedom Jessica and Audacity have given me over the past four years.

If you want to support my journey, please feel free to donate to my GoFundMe.