I sat next to a lovely couple from Minnesota on the long flight, we made conversation and took cat naps as we flew like birds. I got a message from the airline app in the middle of the flight to say that they were sorry for the delay and I would be put on a new flight the following morning.
I decided I would be spending the night in the airport and I was okay with it. However, once I landed on the ground and made it through customs and immigration, there seemed like a chance I could make the final connection. I rechecked my luggage and ran through the entire airport. It was 30 degrees warmer in Minnesota that what I am used to and even though the air conditioning was in full effect, the passive solar heat from the huge windows was roasting me as I ran in an attempt to hold the plane. I almost made it but they had stopped boarding and shut the door. I slid down a wall to catch my breath and to rest while. I would be on that next flight tomorrow morning just as the app predicted.
I spent from 2:30 that afternoon until 8:30 the next morning getting to know the MSP airport. Some chats with friends and family followed and an overpriced dinner was purchased. A couple of 20 minute massages from the robot chairs soothed the spasm in my trap caused by running with my heavy bags.
I found my accommodation for the night within a public art space video installation. This made me laugh as well as feel safe and completely in my element.
Art saves. I trust art, we are friends.
I would "sleep" to the repeating video compilation of artists talking about their varied practices. This was perfect. I had a spot off the main concourse with plug points to charge everything, free WiFi, and even a vending machine with cacao nib vegan chia pudding, that was cold and delightful at 2 in the morning. As the artists repeatedly talked to me about their passions, I would sleep for 2 hours at a time. I meditated and did yoga when sleep eluded me. I washed my hair in the bathroom sink and refreshed myself for the morning flight ahead. I sort of love being put in these types of situations. I am a worrier and over-thinker, but when things go awry, I can get pretty clear about what I need and how to make the best of it. So that's what I did. It's good to be reminded of this trait.
A quick hop later and I was on the ground in Arkansas. A dear friend picked me up from the ever expanding XNA regional airport. My bag had arrived the night before on the plane (that I really could have been on) but I was just glad it was all there. Hot dry air hit me as I rolled my suitcase to her car. I am back in Arkansas - for the first time since my last visit had me flying out in January 2018.
We arrived at her house, which is the same house I left back in 2014 to move to Scotland. I hugged "my friend tree" (that's it's proper name) and said hello to my beloved cats Rufus and Evie's graves. I am home - it all still exists.
Jet lagged but content, I listen to the bugs in the trees at night, look to the sky, amazed by the stars, and the sweet freight train calls out in the night.
I am home. I am home. I am home...
I dedicate this post to my community, my friends, my co-workers at the Scottish Artists Union, and everyone who has had a kind and supportive word. I wasn't travelling alone, you were all there with me. Thank you.
