The 15th of August: today is my Sarah's birthday, 28 to my 32 – she sleeps beside me, my head rests comfortably on my own pillow, Beats around my ears, I'm listening to Nickel Creek, a band I fell in love with at 15; suffice to say, it's a nice morning – not just for music and birthdays, but for the road.
The road is the one I've been on all these years. The road is where I am – up here, going on my second year in the mountains. The road is this blog going on its eighth year, and it's my instagram too. The road is the journey – the push and pull of this thing I call my 'sense of destiny'; for the road is no more than my story, who I am.
And the road is widening.
With Charlottesville and the goons running amok in this country, I'm called to start composing my thoughts on the wider world into essay – this excites me, the kid who graduated from The Defense Information School's 'Basic Public Affairs, Writer' course 14 years ago – yes, some dots take a bit of time to connect, but here I fucking am, living in the mountains, writing a novel – and now, essays for publication: life is getting exciting.
I've also a very exiting book / literature project I'm announcing soon, which, I should think, will be as important to my identity and burgeoning career as my essays.
In other news, I've reconnected with LeighAnn, a girl I dated for about a year when I lived in Milwaukee at 26. We were good to each other. It ended badly, but it went well. Can't believe that was just five years ago. Unreal to think what I would go through to get here. But here I am. Naked, high, happy – once again no longer creating zemblanity for myself.
In short, I'm safely back in the land of Serendip, where things make sense.