It's become increasingly apparent that I won't be doing my post vacation recap today. But that's OK, that means I get to draw it out and chew on the memories a little longer. Maybe I'll even find it in me to make some sort of coherent statement about it all instead of a rote rehashing of events. A little time and distance might just work in my favor to punch up the appeal-factor of my recollections so I'm not just sputtering with the inability to convey meaning when perhaps you really just had to be there and... criminy, why am I doing this at all? Why do I ever do it? For me, of course. That's the bottom line. I like to tie up my events in a writerly bow, always have. Any readers I have might care what I'm talking about, and might not, and sometimes it touches or interests or provokes a response in someone, but even when I don't have any validation I keep on because there's a need in me to keep on. And I want to make what I put in here the best I can, just for me, especially regarding what I hold most sacred. So that's why I wait. And dither. And think about it as I go to sleep. And start and stop and scrap it all and start from scratch. It's not important in the world, but it's important to me, to my inner life.
And so this turned into an unintended treatise on why I keep a soon-to-be-obsolete-if-it-isn't-already blog. Sometimes you just never know where you're gonna end up when you start. And really, isn't it for the best?
Tomorrow: Tales from the Coast and Toddlers in the Wilderness, pretty much for sure.
Today: here's some Television. Maaaaan, that Tom Verlaine's voice is something else.
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