I'm all over the map these days . . . emotionally filling my lungs with the anticipation of moving, while my arms are full holding onto the things I'm leaving. I feel like the Lord is pampering me with moments of summer - he must know that I'm leaving to a place without mountains and need to quench my thirst before that fast. Every time I turn there is an image I want to burn into my memory and breathe in the moments when I may be short of breath. Sunsets . . . warm summer evenings with kids running on green lawns . . . the smell of horses and hay . . . lilacs and barbecues . . . the drone of a river . . . the companionship of dogs . . . the temperature change through a canyon in the morning . . . legs straddling the peak of a rocky ridge with a valley of green spilled out in front of me. I close my eyes and let it sit inside until its comfortable there - these images of home.
Lately I've been running around crazy. Not any more than usual - but my energy in places that it normally isn't - rather than focused on my fiddle, I find myself concentrating on the people who I take for granted - their eyes somewhat panicked that I'm actually going away. Its been a good change, although today I locked myself in a room and refused to let anyone make me do anything else because I just needed to practice.
The smells and colors of South America still linger on my lips. It was a beautiful vacation - one that prompted so much passion about the grit that makes me me . . . and the ambitions that won't leave me alone. I'd better live for a long long time because I'm never going to get it all done otherwise. I have this mental image of my grandma - +70's whirling past me on a zipline through the jungle. If you have blood like that in you, there's a better chance for you to live long. Good thing.
I feel like I could write forever . . . but we're rehearsing in about three minutes. Ah Dvorak.
Must go.
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