Been some talk around the internet lately about who I really am. The Chows got quite a kick out of that, quite a kick out the idea that something or anyone might change me. Truth is, I change everyday; everyday there's something out there that captures me and leaves its mark, that makes me different for always. At least on the good days. Cle pointed out to me that still, it's good to say it out loud every once in a while because it makes it real. And keeping it real, that's what we're about, right?
So who am I? Where do I live? Well, folks, I'll tell ya: I am a child of Penn Ave and sidewalks with huge maple trees; I am a child of church bazaars and ceramics with Mrs. Capaul and meat and potatoes fresh rolls and homemade dessert dinners on Third Street. I am a child of the Palouse, the St. Joe, and mounds of sawdust from freshly cut lumber. I am a child of Viking pride.
I live in the shadows and around the corners from goodbyes; still hate 'em and still can't figure 'em out. I live in the garden with the roses, hydrangeas, rhododendrons and pinecones. I live at my desk with problems that need solving, people that need soothing, numbers that need boxes. I live in the laughter and applause of great theatre and in the windows of skillfully inventoried stores. I live in the paint and paper and clay of beautiful art. I live in the stories and melodies of the car radio. I live on my bike. I live in the laughter of B, A, and J. I live in the lap of J, listening to him sleep. I live with the hearts of my friends, glad, glad, glad. Lucky.
I look for the sunset and for the first sign of a fruit fly in the kitchen. I also look for a scratchy throat, a hot ear, pale gums. Old habits die hard. I look for really good shoe sales. I look for dust on the pictures in the living room, nice firm bananas, and patterns of numbers that levitate off the page. I look for clues in the eyes. I look for as many different shades of green in the trees that I can find. I look for the slightest scrap of anything in the back seat. I look for colors. I look for the perfect pair of black pants.
I read. I think. I laugh. I fuss. I fix. I worry. I try.