right now

where i stand || she

i can't get this picture to upload correctly. if you follow the link to its flickr page, you'll be able to see its intended orientation, but for whatever reason, it keeps flipping itself in blogger. after 3 or 4 failed attempts, i will leave it alone. i will not begin to curse technology, and inevitably, everything else in life that tends to go awry for no apparent reason. i will accept this inexplicable strangeness as whimsy and move on.

my "professional" life is winding down and ramping up at the same time; 3 offers for potential employment in as many weeks have my head spinning. this whole "figure out what you're supposed to be doing with your life" thing isn't easy for some of us. i mean, i feel a divine completeness when i sing, but making a living by making music isn't as attainable as i'd like it to be. and if i want to pursue an artistic life, it's likely i'll have to maintain a day job. and my day job might have NOTHING to do with my art. and while that makes me feel a little bit like i'm living a double life,

a.) i've always admired Sidney Bristow
b.) the secretary-by-day, sensation-by-night concept is kinda fun.

in any case, i'm feeling a little disoriented, a little lost, a little puzzled. it's been awhile since i've felt this way about the tangible aspects of life; i think i've always felt these things inwardly to some degree. and that is why i write. to find myself . . . to build a home of words. but because life is what it is, that home is always changing, relocating, taking on new colors and corridors. i am never at home in one place for very long. my thoughts move - my words adopt new rhythms - the landscape undulates. perhaps this is one of the difficult things about being an artist: we feel solidly at home in what we do. but since what we do reflects what we see and experience, and since those things are always changing, there is a nomadic element to being at home in what we do.

how do i stay standing in an ivory boat
that is pitching and lunging on a turbulent sea?

maybe that's the point.
we're not meant to stand.
life is about falling,
about how it feels to be dislodged on the way down
and what we see as we get back up. however slowly.

then here's to standing and falling in turn,
and grace no matter which one we find ourselves doing.