I'm writing this at the age of 39. By the time you read it, I'll be 40. Funny how time works. One minute you're a little kid swinging and bopping from one thing to another. The next you're an adult who still feels like that little kid but with a lot more responsibilities and long To Do Lists that usually don't include things like swinging on a swing set.
“I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends.”-Joan Didion
Thinking of birthdays makes me think of things that I enjoy. Here's a little goofy list of people, places and things that make my heart go all a flutter.
My Boys (they both know how to put a smile on my face)
Books (in piles, on shelves, in my hands, they're all good...)
Trees (Muir Woods, I miss you...)
Film (Wings of Desire, I love you so. "When the child was a child, it was the time of these questions. Why am I me, and why not you? Why am I here, and why not there? When did time begin, and where does space end? Isn't life under the sun just a dream? Isn't what I see, hear, and smell just the mirage of a world before the world? Does evil actually exist, and are there people who are really evil? How can it be that I, who am I, wasn't before I was, and that sometime I, the one I am, no longer will be the one I am?")
Random weird shit that makes me laugh when I see it. (if you know me, you know that I love to quote random lines from film, tv, books, old time radio and more...)
Snow, rain. I miss the change in the seasons
Art Supplies (give me my most basic supplies and my journal and I am the happiest person on the planet. Contrary to popular belief I really don't need much and I will buy books over art supplies.)
Unsweetened, black iced tea (every damn day.)
Artwork that makes me run to it (even in high heel boots when I could hardly walk anymore, Marcel Duchamp's Box in a Valise made me run to it when I realized what it was from across the room.)