After a lovely weekend of art, amazing meals, nights out, nights in, and U2 (courtesy of a lovely lovely friend), I feel like I'm transformed. I have an annoying habit of assuming I know how an event is going to go down, thereby eliminating all possible surprise for myself. It's like keeping a handful of dirt in my pocket so I can throw grit on all the shiny new experiences out there. The past few days, however--I've had a completely new approach to the stage, and I'm beginning to approach life differently as well. Maybe differently is the wrong word.
Somehow I feel closer to myself.
Maybe it was watching Bono wail Bloody Sunday a foot away from me, while a capacity crowd Buenos Aires cried and sang along. Perhaps it was being close enough to touch Picasso's La Vie and Rodin's The Thinker in a span of five minutes. Either way, it's like something has opened up in me that's been closed for months.
Yes. It's my butthole.
On the serious, though! I've been gypsying around, and only sort of participating in my life. Like...I've shown up and opened the book, but I haven't been doing the classwork. Deja Vu. BAH!!
I'm excited. I have an excite.
Love,
Dak
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