It’s close to the wire, and I haven’t drawn up any speaking points. I was out all night at my crazy amalgam jobby/hob in assisting with Lyndzpalooza’s open mic, where I at once have to represent our organization, rock my own music, and make Arcati Crisis seem awesome and alluring with just a handful of songs.
Tonight was a success on all fronts, so I’m feeling pretty good about the state of me at the moment, not only because it’s a good state to be in, but also because I’m just able to be in it.
Having eight years of blog to read in my spare moments is a wonderful reminder of how I’ve changed over time. Even if it’s an over-reduction to claim that the atoms in your cells are refreshed every seven years, as reductions go at least it’s illustrative – an eight-years-younger you shouldn’t look like the same person. There are now some memories I have forgotten, that if it wasn’t for this blog would have disappeared from my life entirely.
I like to claim that I haven’t changed materially, but that’s just a function of that forgetfulness – maybe a willful one. Clearly I have changed. Not just the superficial ways – the lack of curl in my hair, or the newfound power in my voice. Not just my newfound ability to be in a steady state. I express my opinions differently. My confidence is more tempered, and my fear of failure more subtle. I play my worries much closer to my chest, and they’re a lot more complex than wondering who I’ll kiss next.
Reading old CK makes me afraid that in exchange for my steadiness I don’t see as many colors in the world. I used to delight in church bells and saxophones, and all the colors they brought out in the world. When is the last time I saw that color in sound?
I also used to post every fifteen minutes.
Some things are better left in the past.