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What are we talking about?

April 16, 2011

It’s just after midnight. I’m sitting on my porch with a very large glass of wine and a notebook full of stand-up material. The puppy is jumping up on my legs, leaving some gnarly scratch marks. I’m still contemplating my Tom Waits dance piece; wondering how I could choreograph something, where I’d get dancers and who would ever want to see that. Maybe it’s better suited as a film.

I got home from work a little while ago and just tackled the steamed artichoke I made before I left. Five hours ago. Artichokes and wine are famously incompatible. It is finally warm enough to sit outside late at night comfortably. Things are changing and it feels really good. The number of positive events that have happened today is unbelievable to me. Of course, they still need work and follow-up and energy, but it is so great to see your causes coming to fruition. I guess it is true. There is no substitute for hard work.

There is no substitute for space.

Without space there can be no love. Without love, there can be no music. Without music there is nothing to take up space. Space is songs. Songs are space. All of space is a song.

You know how they always ask musicians, “how did you find your sound?” Well, have you ever heard a good answer? No one has one. A sound isn’t any good if it is carefully cultivated. It has to evolve into perfection over time.

Did you ever wonder what the inside of someone’s thoughts sounded like? Wonder no more. That’s what this is for.

When people ask me what I’m passionate about I always feel silly answering. I don’t have a laundry list of hobbies. I wish I was a better dancer. I wish I could sing in front of people. Travel isn’t a real hobby unless your passport is full and your mind is cluttered with languages and experiences. [don’t judge me for this sentence. I’m judging myself by discounting it. Not you if you consider it a hobby of yours. That’s valid.]. I like words. I love words. I love being on top of mountains and staring at the ocean. I love the moment when you take your first breath at peace. I love clean kitchens and fresh vegetables. I like vintage photographs and eye wear. I like reminiscing…and you. I definitely like you.

What were we talking about?

This is Dodger. He's the puppy.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. April 16, 2011 3:03 AM

    I love words too. Sometimes, it’s the only thing I’m sure of.

  2. April 16, 2011 7:01 AM

    Sounds like a lovely evening. I am glad things are going well for your out there – sounds like moving was the right choice 🙂

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