photo by Amy Gretchen Maher
What a week— this (my post-squam week) is generally the hardest six days of the year. Build a city and then dismantle it. Three days ago, my apartment looked like a bomb had gone off, but today? The only glaring issue is a pile of laundry and I can live with that.
I have navigated the blast of insecurities and gremlins that are always sucked in by the vacuum following the party. One minute you are surrounded by more people than you can honestly talk and hug and connect with– the next, the quiet is a pounding ache, a missing. In that shift of gray it is so easy to overthink, rethink, allow the mosquitoes of self-doubt to swarm– but, I have learned and I practice and so it is with a great heave of relief I can say– hellooooooo weekend!
And, mean it.
Perhaps nothing I wrote above is coherent? That is entirely possible. I am mostly trying to convey that every bit of energy and mojo has been used and I am about to trundle in for a big deep unwind this weekend. I generally am not very successful at this, but I am gonna try. Maybe a visit over to Christine to lounge on her couch and watch rom-coms . . . with bonbons.
Meantime– I could link to 100 things today — the world is so rich, so full, so alive– but 10 will have to do.
the power of 10, by IRENE SUCHOCKI
3. my love for ice cream is like a stampede of (wild) horses
4. I also love Natalie Chanin like a stampede of wild horses—– (clearly my heart is open like a Montana mountain range)
8. I love this moment in time so very much. I love everything about the style of this performance– they could have killed it with too much color, instead they wisely grayed it out so the music came forth– I love the giant stilt creatures with the bubble skirts– but mostly? I love how Ricky ROCKED those jaded music industry professionals OUT OF THEIR FLIPPING seats and onto their feet. When I need a hit of life, I watch this– even though the visual quality is quite poor, it brings me back to that night and there ain’t nothing wrong with the sound. TURN IT UP.
9. I love Jen Gray . . wait for it, like a FUCKING STAMPEDE OF HORSES