Here we go again…

I wish I was talking about infatuation, like those song lyrics to the Green Day song, “Going to Pasalacqua” that no one knows except my cousin Ian and I:

Here we go again

Infatuation touches me

Just when I thought that it would end

Oh, but then again

It seems much more than that

But I'm not sure exactly what you're thinking

Well, I toss and turn all night

Thinking of your ways of affection

But to find that it's not different at all

Well, I throw away my past mistakes

And contemplate my future

That's when I say, "What the hey?"

Would you last forever?

You and I together

Hand in hand, we run away

(Far away)

I'm in for nasty weather

But I'll take whatever you can give that comes my way, yeah

(Far away)

Well, maybe it is a bit like those song lyrics. Here I am again hoping to reconnect to the practice of writing. To that part of me that carried a mixed media journal/collage scrap book everywhere with me. The only reason I wanted to carry a purse (let’s be real - a messenger bag - fuck purses).

The way I moved through the world when I was romantic, hopeful, giggly, and excited about EVERYTHING. Even when I was bitter about something… I was still romantic and excited about it.

When every word I typed in a blog post I read and reread a dozen times. 

When I archived my life and a few others were reading along.

When those few others read my thoughts and dreams and adolescent half-baked musings and could relate. Or empathize. 

… or fall in love with.

That was the thread through blogging and song writing. That was the connection between creativity, words, music, vulnerability, and emotional intimacy. 

I still want people to build a world with me and I want records of it. Proof that it happened and proof that it was magical. 

… proof that there was love.