i feel better now. it really was just a 24-hour type thing. i'm pretty sure that i did have a fever; blinking hot and cold, goosebumps and sweat. i still haven't eaten much, but i'll remedy that tomorrow. mmm.. leftover duck. duckduckduckduckduck!!
i sang the other day. warmed up, got out my mozart books and everything. i miss it. singing is an endorphin rush like few others. i'd imagine maybe athletic painting of some sort might do it.. the simultaneous physical activity, perception, and creation of something beautiful.. overwhelming. and the human voice, too, pulls at something more basic than painting. i don't know how, but sound plugs into something primal. shakes the bones.
the sound of rain, when it happens, is so pervasive. nature's static. i really do love a good decisive rain. overcast sprinkly weather isn't exciting, but a downpour, blurring the ground and drawing fresh wet smells from everything, is somehow inspiring. it's like watching my father split wood - he's suddenly in his element, a fluid but sharp movement. every drop, his falling axe.
i'm thinking that maybe the school library won't even call me for an interview. i'll call them tomorrow. fear-fear-fear. my sweetie cashed out his 401k, and maybe he'll be able to collect unemployment. that'll tide us over for a little bit, at least. *sigh*
i sang the other day. warmed up, got out my mozart books and everything. i miss it. singing is an endorphin rush like few others. i'd imagine maybe athletic painting of some sort might do it.. the simultaneous physical activity, perception, and creation of something beautiful.. overwhelming. and the human voice, too, pulls at something more basic than painting. i don't know how, but sound plugs into something primal. shakes the bones.
the sound of rain, when it happens, is so pervasive. nature's static. i really do love a good decisive rain. overcast sprinkly weather isn't exciting, but a downpour, blurring the ground and drawing fresh wet smells from everything, is somehow inspiring. it's like watching my father split wood - he's suddenly in his element, a fluid but sharp movement. every drop, his falling axe.
i'm thinking that maybe the school library won't even call me for an interview. i'll call them tomorrow. fear-fear-fear. my sweetie cashed out his 401k, and maybe he'll be able to collect unemployment. that'll tide us over for a little bit, at least. *sigh*
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I love your entry - do you write? You seem to have a gift for prose. Your writing flows beautifully.
Anyway - It was a nice surprise to see your response to my journal...good to know one of my favorites cares!
*kiss*
i'll have to try that damp towel thing tomorrow night. thanks for the tip!