Hidden Treasure

When G. and I were in Traverse City right after we got engaged, my mom and I went to an antique shop in an old barn. There were several boxes of old records, I and grabbed several of them, choosing mostly based on cover art. We'd already discussed going to France for part of our honeymoon, and since I am a bit in love with French culture, one album called I Love Paris caught my eye. I brought it home, and in the frenzy of the last couple of months, neglected to listen to it even once.

Last night I put it on for the first time, and I don't think I've ever been as immediately charmed by any music. It was just exactly what I think the soundtrack for strolling through Paris should be. Even as I was scrubbing the bathtub and changing the cat litter, I could almost feel myself sitting at an outdoor cafe, watching chic Parisians wander by.

Merry Christmas

I'm leaving for Kansas City tomorrow, and wanted to wish everyone a safe and happy Christmas before I go.

I'm going to make a genuine attempt to post more often, or at least more meaningfully, in the new year.

See you all then.

Sit Ups

I haven't been doing much writing the last couple months. Not for my novel, not for this blog. I don't, right now, miss it as much as I wish I did. I've been too busy to miss it, my mind too full of other things. But I think that even if I'm not particularly craving it, I need to do it. It's much like exercising, in a way. I never want to exercise. I do it simply because my brain needs me to do it. My brain also needs me to write. When I don't do one of these things, I can feel the heaviness of its void pushing down on my shoulders like lead.

The Doing

You'd think it would go without saying, but I'm surprised by how often I need to remind myself that there is real power and joy to be found in actually doing something rather than thinking about doing it or worrying about doing it.