Last friday as I was taking the Harrison Street exit off I-90 and headed across the Flat toward Uptown Butte. I got this overwhelming sense that I belonged in this town. Most other Montanans, Butte residents or anyone that knows anything about Butte Montana will say I'm nuts, but I have heard that more than a few times in my life. One is always called nuts when you follow your passion. To really live a full and amazing life one needs to follow their passion with reckless abandon. So in the process of be coming one's full complete self and not prove them right by not taking their council. You must to learn to politely listen to "saner" voices and then go do what makes you happy after you have hugged them and thanked them for their wise advice. Yes. I maybe nuts, I can accept that. Yes, moving to Butte might be a crazy thing to do, I can accept that too.
Nothing here is easy, simple or very pretty but in combination this place has a it's own unique splendor. Butte is a place where you can't take anything for granted. Something as simple as going for a walk is not even simple, one must dress warmly, walk fast, be armed with pepper spray and carry a big stick. The pepper spray is for the stray dogs, the stick is to warn humans that you won't be taking any shit today. Followed by the stares you garner from locals as you walk up and down the steep slippery streets is down right comical.
My passion is for writing, I will do what ever it takes to write. Everything else is secondary; college, work, my "bucket list" and other interests. In order to write like I feel I need to, there needs to be a place that allows me to see and experience both the angelic and the profane. Where I can write my dark stories of damaged people and the simple joys in even the most dismal of circumstance. When a writer finds a place that speaks to her, and everyone says that she is nuts for going, than that is exactly where she should be and the thing you should be doing and never look back.
