All flustered: where did this week go? Where did April go? A time of extremes…soaring heights and deep dark lows; a heart that cringes and winces and writhes with pain, only to dance a moment later; a sun who’s heat you curse one day and crave the next; days overflowing with plans and company followed by those with neither; nights where words pour out of pens on blank pages, roll off lips gracefully and gently into still air, and nights when language simply fails. When there are no words.
May 3: Bear with the simple “nature” photos…I’m very aware they have been/will be dominating my selection for this project. But believe me when I say a blue sky and a greening tree can be a most welcome sight after a long day inside.
May 4: A pit-stop on the way home, for a simple dinner by the river and a little reading (recommended by David Sedaris, gifted by a most thoughtful person; a short, haunting, dark collection of stories). And a little wine, and a little movie.
May 5: Still absorbing last week’s Jonsi show. Watching this helped. Gorgeous scenery and song captured in one place. Which inspired me to focus on “place” in my writing…on the power and influence and hold it can have on us all.
May 6: If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Why run around frantically seeking out new places to try, when you can just hop on a bus and ride down the street and meet a friend last minute for cheap beers and perfect tacos al pastor and chips and guacamole at Big Star?
May 7: Couldn’t wait to kick these off tonight, after a cold rainy night catching up with co-workers and learning about beer from new friends, dropping by the MCA’s First Friday, and cheering on our boys at an old haunt from my first year downtown.
May 8: Early morning trip to the thrift stores to beat the crowds on a half-price day, where patience and perseverance are key. Seven bucks was enough for two clutches, two skirts, two belts and two shirts (not making this up). An oddly relaxing Saturday morning, in spite of my companions: an astonishing amount of screaming running kids, and “that thrift store odor”. Shudder.
May 9: Sunday. Getting a spot in my favorite yoga class. Family brunch. NYT and coffee and cookies on a sidewalk patio. Bundling up to read and write and nap in the park. A day of balance, of highs and lows and time alone and time with those I cherish most.
May 10: A visit to the HWL, to hear Chuck Palahniuk read (perform?). Dude had the auditorium and the “over-flow room” packed to capacity, had the audience laughing and cringing and gasping and blowing up inflatable objects. Slightly different, but a unique and welcome change of pace. A hopeful day, today.