Taking August off from regular blogging was really liberating. I learned not to process my thoughts or experiences in blog-sized containers; I just existed in the haze of heat, sunshine and fun that was August. I gamboled in mud, I set up house and put my new set of pots and pans to use, I went down water slides and let the September fashion issues collect dust on my new coffee table. I roasted a squash and turned zucchini into spaghetti. I slept in a new bed, organized my collection of perfumes, danced around the room to the Grimes record.
But now I am back, facing the blank screen of terror and possibility, and find myself wondering…what do I write about? After a monthlong break, my blogging muscles feel slightly rusty from disuse.
So I can only begin where I am at, as my old yoga teacher in San Francisco was fond of saying: with both the terribly mundane actions that make up daily life and thoughts that feel like Cinemascope horizons, broad and slightly overwhelming in their scope. I bought some bootleg jeans because I’m tired of skinny ones; I read a few more Steinbeck novels, loving both his humane, expansive view of humankind and his deft eye for detail. I learned about storm fronts inadvertently one night as I Googled how to push out hot air out of an apartment using only fans. I argued with utility companies and now appreciate my mother’s intransigence and ferocity when it comes to negotiating with powerful business interests. I decided to compile all the writing I did for NOGOODFORME.COM into one large document; it’s about 100+ pages single-spaced, and I’m only about two years in. I am thinking about being on the dark side of my thirties, and about 40 and onward. I’m thinking about how to love better, and where to put my fight and my might. I’m dreaming about the beauty of minor chords, about the ultimate creative suffocation that comes from “branding,” about Bill Clinton’s speech last night at the Democratic National Convention, about ghosts in the machine. It’s all swirling, inchoate and unruly, waiting to be corralled into experience, into stories, into music and image and sound and words.
But right at this moment, I’m listening to the new Cat Power record, and I love the way her sensuous voice sings “Bury me, marry me to the sky.” I thought to myself, That’s such a beautiful phrase, marrying the sky. That’s an aspiration right there. You open your eyes, your heart, your ears and let the world in. And maybe it makes you a bigger person, and maybe it makes your horizon that much bigger. I’m ready for the new influences, new stories, new energy that fall brings in. Marry me to the sky, indeed.