Finding Momentum

Few things clash more than watch­ing Sigur Ros per­form on “Late Night With Conan O’Brien”. (Sigur Ros is an Ice­landic rock band with dis­mem­bered falsetto Nor­we­gian vocals, haunt­ingly ethe­real gui­tars and steady key­boards). And when their piece ends, the whole stu­dio is kind of quiet for one or two sec­onds. Dead quiet. Then peo­ple remem­ber to clap.

This was going some­where (deeper) but I’m really tired.

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I’d been won­der­ing for the longest time why my left eye kept hurt­ing with my con­tacts on (this had been going on for a few months) and I finally went to my optometrist to check it out. Turns out I’ve had a scratched cornea and the hard con­tact in my eye hadn’t allowed it to heal. So now I’m only wear­ing one and only see­ing foggy shapes through the other. Gives me kind of headaches some­times, but boy, sight is such a gift.

It’s sum­mer. The cur­tains are drawn back, a rose­bush sits out­side my open win­dow, the air’s warm and I can sing with­out worry that the neigh­bors can hear me.

The dark­ness envelopes and embraces. I have four free hours at night, and I am over­whelmed. Sim­ple things tend to do that–I pause a lit­tle as I walk out to my car and stare up at the heavens.

I think I’m on this people-withdrawal kind of stage. Like I’m all poop tired from Cal and talk­ing to _everybody_ and my inner intro­vert needs some TLC. No, not my inner Emo Guy, who makes occa­sional appear­ances. But more con­tem­pla­tive times, more jour­nal­ing, some prayer and med­i­ta­tion. I think I could stay this way for awhile.

Pic­ture of the Day

Bren­dan and Julia, doing what they do best.