My pal, Katy, filled my bags with books last time I visited her. Each one of them, snapshots of another life. I picked up the The Time Traveler’s Wife and read a little and then was moving about and left the book somewhere. Recently, I came across the book again and it suddenly took me by storm. I read it on the plane last week and couldn’t stop drinking it up I stayed up half the night that night. It engulfed me. It pulled me inside of its words and wouldn’t let me go. It made me think about all of the horrifying parts of the passage of time and all of the glorious victories that come along with each tick of the clock. It made me ache for love. It made me think about the words “spending time.”
I am that person who cannot wear a watch. It makes me feel weird to have time strapped to my body reminding me of its passage and of its boundaries. I think it is the boundaries the bug me the most. The movement of time is not scary to me, it just is. It is a beautiful marking of where we have been and how long it took us to get here.
On the precipice of a big birthday, just over the edge of a big life change, I find comfort in the folds of time more so than ever before. I guess it is because of what its alternative is…
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“Times Like These” – Jack Johnson
In times like these
In times like those
What will be will be
And so it goes
And it always goes on and on…
On and on it goes
And there has always been laughing, crying, birth, and dying
Boys and girls with hearts that take and give and break
And heal and grow and recreate and raise and nurture
But then hurt from time to times like these
And times like those
And what will be will be
And so it goes
And there will always be stop and go and fast and slow
Action,Reaction, sticks and stones and broken bones
Those for peace and those for war
And god bless these ones, not those ones
But these ones made times like these
And times like those
What will be will be
And so it goes
And it always goes on and on…
On and on it goes
But somehow I know it won’t be the same
Somehow I know it will never be the same.
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This may be the first time in the history of me doing my taxes that I have had them all finished before the 15th. I guess old dogs can learn new tricks. Who knew?
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Tomorrow I leave Florida to head back to the Midwest for a spell which will include time in Kansas City, Salina, a roadtrip to Ohio to a friends farm to write a show, a stop in Branson for the opening of a theatre that we bought (umm…yeah, more to come about that) and then back to Salina before the summer roller coaster begins. I hope that spring hangs on for a couple of weeks.
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Things that used to be so common feel like a true treat these days. That is something to be aware of and thankful for I think.
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This is totally hilarious
Time is ticking so fast these days. You would think that when you have a lot to do, it would make time hold more weight. I have told myself that I would stop, be peaceful, relax and enjoy the people in my life whenever I get that ‘too fast’ feeling. So, last Thursday, I hopped in the car and drove to the west coast of Florida to see my Aunt Janett and Uncle Phil. We talked endlessly, took it easy and sat in Gilchrist park and watched the sunset.
I can’t tell if this looks romantic or like…well, something else.
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On my way back to Lauderdale, I stopped in Naples to see my very beautiful, very pregnant, very dear friend Leslie. The next time I see her, that little one will be here. Once again, time was on my mind.
This past weekend was a whirlwind of parties, phone calls, driving, reunions, parties, workshops, set ups, clean ups, more reunions, more parties and then of course, exhaustion. Stephen Schwartz, the composer and lyricist of Wicked, was in Ft. Lauderdale to do a workshop and attend some events that we set up as a benefit for Lovewell. It was the first big event that we pulled off entirely on our own and I was so proud of everyone who made it happen. A lot of it was thanks to Shelly Bernstein, this super cool chick in the photo below:
Stephen sings “For Good” from Wicked.
A shoe graveyard.
Proof that ancient Egyptian cats believed “Everything is Possible.”
On Saturday night, we had a post show party at our friends Rick and Peter’s condo. The only thing I can say about that (besides how fabulous it was) is two words- Chocolate. Fountain. Although I refused to help set the chocolate fountain up, I did throughly enjoy eating from it all night long. And, because I loved it so much, I got nominated to clean it. Bad idea.
Tweets:
What is that? Is that a sheet truck? Yep. Just saw a dude selling bedsheets out of the back of his truck. 2010-07-02
A shoe graveyard.
