A few of you have expressed an interest in even the most quotidian details of my life. More banalities, you've said. Just kidding, no you haven't. But I still wanted to tell you that I listen to this song, and album on repeat this week.
It was playing at the salon when my hair was chopped, and seems to have led to a semi-permanent imprint on my brain, suddenly vulnerable without all that extra shrouding.
When I was a little kid and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I took the question quite literally and replied, "a bird." I liked the idea of flying over the ocean to secluded rocky beaches.
As for this blog, like Jack Kerouac said, in his introduction to Lonesome Traveler: "Its scope and purpose is simply poetry, or, natural description."
My nickname when I was small was Jaybird--not because of my globe-trotting ambitions, but because I squawked a lot. So maybe this is just a form of online squawking.
No comments:
Post a Comment