Dear everyone,
I realized this morning that sometime in the last few weeks my walk to work has started to smell like dried blackberries. I love the scent and wish it were a perfume, but it was really very recently that the morning smelled like ripe blackberries. And that makes things different somehow. Charged.
I strolled home alone from happy hour in the gloaming tonight, the specific half an hour of every day that makes me positive that I am missing something important. Down by the lake it smelled salty and reminded me, suddenly, of evenings fishing off the pier when I was a kid.
I'm keeping all of this. I'm storing it up and waiting until I figure out how to spool it through my usual minor chords to make it into something worthwhile. But I'm not sure just how quite yet. Or even if, in fact, something worthwhile is possible.
August was a big month full of learning for me, full of processing and coming back down a few pegs. Life works at teaching us humility and if we refuse to learn then it forces us to be humble against our selfish plans. That's why it's in charge.
Are you ready for the fall? Because it is nearly here, and soon enough we'll be looking for big piles of leaves to jump in. There are holidays and shows coming up, reasons for giving presents and making cookies and wearing silly hats.
As it turns out, there are only so many strangers that I can make eye contact with before I start to feel silly, before I want to turn and run back into my head. I'm not sure that I ever want to leave my apartment again.
And hey, I'll be at Bumbershoot this weekend by myself. Let's hang out! It's my very first one. But I'm warning you right now that Saturday is my birthday and that is my excuse to spend the whole day telling people my favorite gross, politically incorrect joke. So brace yourselves.
I'm easy to find--I'll be that girl who smells of dried blackberries.
love,
me
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