Music, Memoir and Muse

Nothing is as bad as it seems. The semester is moving ahead so fast. I'm trying to be productive (at my own pace, of course.) The weather is changing so fast. It's almost like it was warm, then, I blinked at it was cold. Thanksgiving is on Thursday. This is really is one of my favorite times of the year. The rainbow of leaves falling every day.

I've decided that I'm not going to worry about school anymore. It will work itself out. I always arrive on-time, eventually. I really want to focus on my grad school applications and perhaps, get back into the groove of writing. I really want to have a collection of poems finished early 2008. At one point, I thought I was close to finishing. Then, I started writing some more and all sorts of things fell out.

E. Ethelbert Miller has this phrase that we should know"How many books are in you?" How strange to think about that sort of thing. I love when books introduce themselves to me. I love the discovery of writing. I hear voices, and people talking, and the music of a bygone period in my life and I get excited and start writing. There are also times when we write not just to remember but to go back, because happiness is more often remembered than actually lived. Who has time to think about being happy when you're happy.

The same is true of listening to music. When I wanna hear a song it has little to do with dancing and more to do with remembering who I danced with when that song came out. How it felt to be inside that skin, in that moment, dripping, now an echo.