There was a spell of two weeks where I got an insider’s perspective of me in 40 years. An example might include me walking to a cabinet across the room and by the time I had reached it, had absolutely forgotten the important thing I needed to fetch. Mix in a bout of indecision and you get no action.
I’m a fan of people. And doubly a fan of poets. Imagine a large convergence of both in one fabulous city on the East Coast. No brainer, right? But for some reason it took me weeks to think through this one like a mensa candidate trying to figure out a complex brain puzzle. Then last week it came at me like a rush of wind or a physical imperative- I need to be in New York that weekend. Every muscle, joint and blood vessel sang in unison. And so thankfully work helped make the decision for me. During the daytime, I will be walking a tradeshow floor gathering ideas and the nighttime will be filled with new faces and words. Such a delightful blend really. I leave for New York at 6:30 in the morning on a Thursday to be able to attend one of my previous mentor’s readings in the great city that evening. Then on to couch surfing.
It’s good to know at 31 that things don’t need to fit perfectly in neat boxes but that sometimes you can veer into the wild wooly woods off the interstate and walk a spell. It’s even better when friends accompany. I can’t wait to sleep the sleepless nights of too few hours in New York. But tonight should be easy, thanks to a glass of Petite Syrah. Cheers.