a chapter and its closing

Today is my last day of work for Scott. I've worked for him for four years. To have a four year relationship with someone whom you know intimately in many ways, but not in many others is very odd. For a while I was afraid to tear asunder the comforts that our relationship and my consistent paycheck gave me. I was comfortably numb. I read the other day "The delay of doing something is often times the undoing of that very thing." Amen. Now for the undoing.

I feel a deep sense of peace. As though I were finally stepping into the shoes that really genuinely fit. I have no idea where these shoes will take me, but I pray I keep on walking. Walk on. I thank God for all this. In my own way. My own way that might not be encapsulated in any one else's expression or song of praise, but just in my own way, perhaps without words.

Here's a photo of the view from my office window. Across the way is Jimmy who works at Larry Gordon's company. He waves to me now and then, and we make observations about the doves and pigeons who find their home on our sills. Apparently, one of them totally crapped on my window.



I saw Ray Lamontagne perform last night at the Avalon. When he opens his mouth to sing, it is as though the world's joys and pains fit itself inside his heart and through his diaphragm out his mouth. Everything is equally as loud and soft all at once. You fear that the sound itself would crack or break, but it doesn't. What a gift, what a marvel!



It is amazing that each and every one of us talents, but the world takes it away in its desire to make each one of us very two-dimensional.

When my friend Albert reads my blog. He's going to say its too heavy and too serious. Sigh. Well, whatever, dude. You're the one with the white zoot suit.