May 23, 2012

The grid of my life moving forward. Lines of music and home repair interweave, travel is coming soon, as teaching fades away. This transitional period between who-I-am’s always throws me off, as my brain looks through its archives trying to find a past model of being, a template that might fit, for me to try on. And the pile of discarded attempts beside me on the floor grows ever taller, still looking for the right persona to wear. I’m tired, and random, like a pinball shot by an inexpert player bouncing off the walls of a toy maze. I need to return to lists and small things that want doing, small things that can be completed, while the big picture looks for a theater where it might play successfully in the near future.