Nightfall in Venice


The booming bass pouring through my subleased ceiling and rattling the framed mandala hanging on the wall has finally stopped.

My new friends who sell sunglasses and bottled drinks displayed on the gate in front of our house have loaded their wares back into the garage and gone home for the night.

The syncopated plunk of paddle tennis balls in the beachfront court just outside our door dwindled with the setting sun.

The throngs of tourists who criss cross wide eyed down our sidewalk all day have emptied back into their cars and freeways, taking souvenirs, sandy shoes, and memories of “freaky Venice” back into their normal lives.

And sitting on the balcony I get to call “ours” for the month, I marvel at the beautiful quiet I never realized Venice offered.

When I decided to move on from LA and continue my nomadic adventures, I still had a couple months left in the community college semester who’s music classes offered my heart’s current fulfillment. I didn’t want to leave yet, but didn’t want to spend this precious time simply waiting for it to pass so I could move on, either. I decided to give myself the one part of LA life I’d always wanted and never quite moved into — the Venice beachfront.

I started pouring over Craigslist, as any good urban millennial would. (Yes, I’ve finally claimed that stigmatized generational label) I found a house that looked amazing, with big windows filling the whole beach side wall, yoga teachers and world travellers as existing tenants, and placement right over the boardwalk, just like I wanted. That sublease was longer than I needed though, and a little more expensive than I was fully comfortable with. I emailed it to myself, and spent a couple trouble nights laying awake wondering if I should call anyway. The third day, I checked in on the post and found another space in the house had opened, for exactly the dates I needed, and a bit less money. I jumped, checked it out, gained acceptance from the existing community, and had a security deposit venmo’ed by the end of the day.

This is one of the keys of lifecationing I’m getting much stronger at – appropriately timed decisiveness. I will wait endless and defer action ad nauseum if I don’t have a strong green light inside. But once I’m a “hell yes”, even though there’s generally a body-shaking wave of terror that accompanies that affirmation, I’m learning to take action, commit, and move forward. I couldn’t be more delighted with the results.

Of course, I went to see the house in the daytime. It was a sunny Venice afternoon. Lots of music, lots of street hagglers, lots of visitors, lots of shouting, lots of visibly unstable personalities — everything we know and love this self-contained altered state of a beachside town.

I didn’t realize the quiet it brought at night. And I certainly didn’t expect the sound of waves crashing to float up and caress my uncertain nerves as I made my first dinner in my home-for-the-month.

I expect I’ll have quite a few home-for-the-month’s coming up here, right soon. May they each offer such a sweet balance of bustling human life and quiet solitude. And may intuition keep me waiting for these golden chances to say “hell yes”. And may I always find some sounds of nature to wrap me in hugs, soothing the uncertainty.

Thanks, Venice.

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1 thought on “Nightfall in Venice”

  1. Well done!! Glad you decided to take the leap and spend that type/style of time in Venice—-and—writing about it. Thank you for sharing.

    Love you & wishing you HAPPY TRAILS—–always….

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