I have a strange relationship with wishful thinking and projection and presuming one knows what one wants. Part of me does this - daydream, collect pictures of other people's things, set up imaginary studios. But the rest of me, the most of me, believes that the house, the street, the future you want always comes at a price, and involves so many unknowables, elements you never consider when you walk down a road and covet. This is my favorite street, lined with my favorite houses, and it just explodes with color in the spring. Even the sidewalks turn into abstract paintings when the blossoms drop, and the terracotta walls wear bougainvillea like jewelry.
But I wonder, (maybe worry is a better word), that I might not realize that getting what I think I want, getting to live on a street that I've been looking for a very long time, may come at a price. That where I am right now may be the happiest place, and I'll never know for sure until time passes and people pass and things change. Maybe wishing is something to be extremely careful about.