license to sing

I’ve been woozy lately and I’m woozy now. Much time in the hot Portland sun yesterday – Westmoreland Park, the Rhody Garden, Reed College Lake. I thought I had a lead on a cheap storage unit, but I misheard the original conversation.

I’ve also been feeling invisible lately, and in a not little way. Energetic, enthusiastic work conversations go nowhere. People passing on the sidewalk without looking, no your eyes/my eyes shaking hands. Many of the books in boxes in storage in Idaho are my art books, and my heart is calling out for them. My basement studio may soon become a warehouse. I’m picturing that.

I like when The Shangri-las sing, “When I say I’m in love you best believe I’m in love – LUV.” Makes me happy. Sometimes in Trader Joe’s or the Rhody Garden or my Northeast Starbucks I’ll look at a woman and say that to myself, which is helping to keep Portland weird – why I’m so at home here.

I wrote this in my Morning Pages yesterday – “It takes courage just to get out of bed.” I don’t know, that’s my sense. I’m enacting courage when the 3:59 alarm sings out from the phone and I move the covers off and just get up.

My Oregon driver’s license came in the mail yesterday.

Two people sent money for ‘Rosy” yesterday. My heart remains wildly grateful, for that and for everything else, the all of it, even when woozy, even this invisible.