But What About The Soul That Grows In Darkness?

I just retired my photoblog of the Excelsior now that I know longer live there and can no longer focus on it as terrain, wonderland, maze, weirdoland, frustration, rapture and hangover.

It is day two of having to walk just two blocks to my job and coming home to a clean, wide, bright house full of Good Folks with Good Vibes (and a walk-in pantry, among other amenities.)

A park, a fire station, a coffeehouse. A window, a stoop, a school. I want to sit on the stoop and watch the fire trucks go by. It's like out of a set piece.

Simple spatial indexes that are grounding and consoling. Plus the fact that my dear friends already lived here and I spent ample days and nights at this house.

Houses and jobs: the most interesting things we can talk about sometimes.

Yesterday, I unloaded my boxes of books, found a window-facing nook that my desk fit perfectly, helped arrange shelves and sofas to facilitate both personal creative space as well as communal dancing space and decided that I had much in the way of paper to shred, burn and recycle.

Now time for reading, writing, biking, cooking and sharing.