at twilight tonight i went for a run in my nice little neighborhood. on my CASSETTE WALKMAN (i just might be the only one left on this forsaken planet without an iPod) gillian welch and dave rawlings eerily crooned one of my all-time favorites, "dear someone." (i know, it's a little slow for running, but i was in the "jog" portion of my usual route.) over the golf course the clouds were the color of old pink roses, and a hazy half-moon hung above. it all felt as if the world had gotten tired and God billowed out a heavy, soft, cool-colored blanket and whispered, "here, little world, hunker down, tuck in. it's going to be better when you wake up." and He knows.
january is "white page" time...carte blanche...a do-over...a scary thing in an artist's terms. whether the medium is verse, melody, or image, the white page is terrifying for us. in january, the year is spread out before me like a brand new sketchbook page, and my hand trembles as i put the pencil to the paper. so much to create, so much to mess up, so much to learn...maybe i will get a dog (please landlady?). maybe i will finally go to new england. maybe i will soon be driving a new old truck around the streets of nashville (my '73 black ford f-100 has been murdered, quite dramatically -- more details later). maybe i will meet a fine man. maybe new friends aren't out of the question when one is nearing 30. and hey, maybe i'll get an iPod...
so, some new art will soon be in the making in order to capitalize on the sweetest, most sugary of holidays, the one that has meant the least to me of all: valentine's day (perhaps with the exception of secretary appreciation day). the last memorable valentine's day i had was my sophomore year at auburn. and yes, it involved a man, but he happened to be my dad. he was on a business trip in a nearby city and took quite a detour so that he could take his little girl to a lovely dinner. yay pops! my hero -- i didn't feel like as much of a romantic failure that night. and nine years later, still yet i wait for the year when valentine's day will bear any significance for me. tick. tock. tick. tock. i'm not one of those hateful, bitter women, i'm just still on the sidelines, that's all. just call me "benchwarmer."
that's all the gut-spilling i'm up for this evening...it's now time for some real-deal, stove-top popcorn, some cheap red, and a movie with my housemate.
tuck in, friends. it's cold out.