I'm not sure what happened. Somewhere between the freedom, joy and creativity of last night and this moment, the light dimmed. No, it's somewhat worse than that. The cold and fog began to creep in sometime this afternoon, filtering the edges that had been clear, and obscuring what's so. It began to block the light. I could sense the change in the atmosphere, but couldn't remember how to turn back towards the sun.
It was ever thus: the encroaching of the swirling morass. Beginning in drifts and flutterings, and building mass and depth until I forget to see other things.
Really, I'm just tired. And a little lonely. And wondering if it was very clever of me to make all the changes I've made in the last few months right on top of each other. But that other stuff sounds so much MORE, doesn't it? And I have been working at actually writing again, thanks to SC2 and her friends SpecialK, so the flourishes naturally creep into the words.
Anyway. After choir tonight I hung out for a bit with my always awesome Funk Soul Brother, and I couldn't help but remember who I am, looking at this, one of the few pieces of public art I like in my city:
Little birds speak to me right now as I adjust to my empty nest and stand back to watch my fledglings test their wings. Sometimes what looks like a swirling morass might actually just be an intricate take-off.