Saturday, September 10, 2005

Today was a day most grand, a day of observing great love amongst others, so much of that that it spilled outwards towards Yours Truly. Also a day of deep thinking, not too introspective, but cursory and fleeting landings on big quests, questions, and answers. Now listening to Roger Bryan & The Old Sweethearts's song Rocking Chair and still thinking this is on the digvid back burner, illustrating this as well as Sam's most favoured play.
Phoned the residence of Rio and Ron last night, armed with the mouth harp given to me by my dearly-departed grandfather who loved me best. Edgar, who would send me boxes of books and take great delight in my young intellect and humour. And homespun plays, performed in the cactus-ridden and bamboo-edged backyard of him and his Bunny, my maternal beacon, Victoria, in Smyrna outside of Atlanta back before - well before - it was Hotlanta.
I blasted out some bars and Ron said Why, HeLL-OHH, Mister Blinky. I played more. He conversed between bursts of neo-blues.
Today it was a wedding and I cannot say when in recent memory I've had a gig where I've been so overcome with praise and good vibes.
Time to gather up my post-work senses and forge onwards into this slivered moon night.

Slivers of Love.

This just in:
Moments ago received word from reliable source (i.e. parents) who attended art auction/benefit/shindig pour moi that my drawing made yesterday (deftly entitled Edges: Ohio Street, Tifft Farm Pond, Cargill Grain Elevator) (whewwww) went for a fetchingly respectable price. Love being a drawer, a dispenser of happiness.

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