Sunday, January 29, 2012


One saxophone and two guitars in the corner, the face of their master in my iMac. Cold night outside my windows, he's backlit by sun as we talk. A whole family of friends takes their turns saying hello. We are laughing, enjoying the taste and joke of language. a clutch of Schrödinger's Katzen, in two places at once.

Something has shaken loose, something has opened. MtMn is already in America and the apartment is spacious, lonely and sweet. a small portal that is just like life. Through the streets and rehearsal halls of this town, speaking words that succeed and fail to convey what I intend, this life is exactly as it has always been.

I am at home here, I will never belong here. This is the essence of being human. Blessings on all who can know this without traveling and on all who must travel to understand. Wednesday I travel to another version of home, to the embrace of familiar friends, and I will miss this apartment, these streets. And other friends and other streets.

What a privilege, what a gift, this ache.