Now that Daughter has been away at college for a couple of years and worked out of state last summer, she’s getting a different view of us, her parents. She made a comment the other day about how strange we are. Not necessarily strange in a bad way, but in a Bohemian way. She didn’t use that term, but noted our artsy, unconventional lifestyle, which is one definition of Bohemian.
Apparently, we’re not like the parents of most of her friends. And we already know it. We’re not like most of the people in our town. We’re creative outliers, living in a place where there isn’t a large enough mass of Bohemians to affect any great change in our community. Certainly not like in larger cities, where there are neighborhoods of Bohemians available to socialize and collaborate.
Instead, we Rural Bohemians practice our creative lifestyles at home, where we can write novels, brew beer, collect mid-century furniture, question the way society does things, paint our walls fun colors and affix original art to them, and pass our Bohemianism on to our children.
As much as we are homebodies when it comes to our Bohemianism, we do like to socialize with other creative people. Even though there aren’t many of us, we Rural Bohemians know each other and we know when a new Bohemian moves to town. We don’t seem to get together often enough, though. We’re all too darned busy.
It’s not always easy to be isolated in our creativity, but it’s our creativity that makes the isolation tolerable.