On absence.

There is a tranquility in absence.

I'm traveling a lot lately, as I'm sure you guys already know. And to me, there's two types of travel, the aggressive absorption of diving into a city, seizing it by the tail, and making it my own, and the quiet immersion into a lack of reality. Paris, not two weeks ago, was the former.

Tonight, I begin the latter here in Myrtle Beach. My room looks out over the ocean, the steady, humble roar of the waves replacing the sticky grind of wheels on a moist street. Standing on my balcony, I see no lights, no other people living their lives behind brick and glass. I see only the black of night stretching on into the distance.

There is a peace here I forget exists sometimes.

And I've got a week to soak in it.