I listen to people talk. I look and try to smell a lot but I’m always coming back to the Music.

Music, of all the med’yums, the crafts/ religion(s)/expressions/arts the takes or whatever we call ’em Music is still the closest. Music is the closest to Magic or talking to God or Power or Each Other or Selves there is. I believe. I mean I love a good movie or story or bounce-pass to cock-back dunk. I enjoy improv comedy, cooking talk, marching bands and battle rap. I like consuming any platform people are great at what they are doing. I’m a fanboy

but again and again I’ve come to conclude these Musicians are the ones very closest to translating and speaking and sounding on the human experience.

In a matter of beats they take you there in a way words alone cannot. You know it and I love it. Some Music haunts and some inspires. Some makes us burn or laugh or jerk then stop and move it.

So wherever you get some, get some. CD, vinyl, classic iPod black, radio or stream of your choice get some. Get some live if you can just get some.

At the same now moment I can wonder

if it’s all too much,

or not enough.

When we realize We All are connected but We each have our own dream and our own perception of It,  We realize We have the key.  To it all. We always say we are still looking, we’ll never find it, we still haven’t found what we’re looking For. We always say we are not Enough. But there it is, the answer to Life. We are all One but each Ourselves. We all have the Answer–> yet we All struggle in the aisle with what sauce to pick and what show to watch and what hat to wear, and We All struggle with how to deal with that ass-hole or memory. We are All the hole/whole.

 

I feel like we should have a ceremony for this balloon that I swear has been going on for almost two months. Majorly abused. It is finally growing smaller now. I feel like we should have a ceremony for it, but it’s quite possible we won’t.

It comes together fast.  And you don’t know how you got there exactly but you’re quite sure you are right where you need to be.  You’re at the parade.  You haven’t been to enough of them.  You have to win it all to get a parade.  And it’s raining and sunny at the same time and you celebrate with the Storm and with your Daughter and with Strangers.  And for an afternoon smiling becomes the norm and everyone who wants gets to glimpse the prize.

Stewie and Sue waved at my daughter, all her favorites did.  We laughed at a scarecrow and high fived a cop.  Jewell Loyd gave her an autograph.  There was drinking but no one was drunk. Shawn Kemp was there and you just have to understand that sometimes all the pieces come together and that Basketball in Seattle will always mean something to me.

 

So let’s go Natasha Howard–>  stay swift Jordin Canada–>  D- up Alysha Clark.  Not trying to get greedy but the sun just broke further and we’re sensing a repeat.

 

 

It’s like beautiful sometimes crisp sometimes torn sometimes painted jeans. Spectrums and cuts and loads of takes. But at their fiber basically made of the same thing.

The Youngest and I found ourselves today on the same day intentionally and by coincidence at an aerial ice/figure skating show and a roller derby bout. Both had a half time but one called it intermission. Both had us moving hard for our views and there were emcees and masks and strange elements at each but basically made of the same thing.