dearest of mid November!
oh, how the crisp weather stings my Exposed Due To Stubborn Refusal To Wear Neither My Warmish Black Knit Hat Because Of It's Tasteless Hair Flattening Properties Nor My Warmer Than Black Knit Hat Grey Fleece Hat Because It Does Not Match My Outfit ear tips! oh, how i observe the radiant colors of fall, which apparently pale in comparison to the fall colors that make the East Coast 'hella worth living in, sister' but i wouldn't know because i've only ever visited the old country in the cold tomby grip of Winter and really when it boils right down to it, this uni-costal autumnal personal experience that is All That I Know trumps that which is hearsay so this Seattle environs is, for all intents and purposes, Technicolor Magic, sister.
it is in this backdrop that i can't help but milestone my days with moments of sheer gratitude for that which makes up my 24 hours in one day experience called Life This Time Around On This Planet. (one time, while riding in a beat up old Toyota pick up thru the organic farm in the hills of Northern California with my South African companion, the bed full of freshly harvested red and white onions, i couldn't help pick up the fact that the new age lady, whose self produced seminar we were listening to on full volume to compensate for the truck's internal racket, kept tagging on the qualifier of 'Here On Earth' after pretty much every sentence that pretty much made sense on it's own, rendering said qualifier redundant, at least to the causal observer/non-new agey person/i have yet to try LSD, in a way that landed somewhere between delightful and annoying, what with it's implications dashing the bold assumption that all the things that could actually happen to a human would actually happen to a human Here On Earth, cuz well, that's where we are. that'd be like staring into the face of your quasi first date coffee date and spouting out this scene ender of a line: 'my what a stunningly captivating shade of blue are your eyes. the one's on your face.' hmmm. . . charming, and hey, looks like maybe someone forgot to shut the door all the way before leaving the house, i think that's my cue. anyways, to that chatty cathy pre recorded new age lady, a much belated homage.) specifically, for all the wonderful art thingies that have transpired over the past half week (amongst other things: an endearing potlucked Seattle Salon, a fundraising event at Open Flight Studio wherein i preformed, a workshop with the incomparable Tere O'Connor, meeting Mister The Mayor at the Capitol Hill Arts District announcement assembly, and full cast rehearsals for the upcoming Homo for the Holidays), the breadth of which has pronounced me a truant to mine own self imposed weekly blog posting duties. for this non-transgression transgression, i dutifully apologize. i shall return to my somewhat regularly scheduled disquisition starting probs next week or so.
so until then, i invite you to snuggle up with me under the So Thin It Actually Makes You Colder Out Of Sheer Incredulousness Of Still Not Being Warm Despite The Addition Of Adding A Layer blanket cover of clouds that this week has pulled over us and bask in the wondrous reality that is All The Days Ending In Y.