[Because the Methow makes music in the key of blue: sterling, aquamarine, Arizona turquoise, Bainbridge Island beach glass & lapis lazuli.]
[Because what is more Methow than: sterling,blue, deer & a Methow River rock with the most delicate little black vein?]
I had such a wildly beautiful epiphany while working in the studio today. I recently told a friend about a silly little fear I have and her response was, quite simply, “Do not be afraid.” It was such a straightforward response it nearly shocked my boots off. Let me tell you what I realized! A good friend does not encourage, nourish or foster your insecurities and fears. A good friend tears those nasty weeds up by the roots and with a most fractious spirit, she casts them into a burning barrel, pours kerosene all over them and drops a lit match on the mess. Then she stands there beside you and makes you watch that awful crap* burn away into ash, wind and nothingness. That’s what a good friend does. I just thought I’d tell you. Consider yourself informed.
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I had a transportative experience while working. I was playing Hey Rosetta! on the stereo and was suddenly, mind out of body, spirit out of physicality, transported! It was the craziest thing. I grabbed my journal and scribbled the experience down:
“I am in the studio listening to Hey Rosetta! while I work and I am suddenly transported to Red Hill in Pocatello — it is winter. I am running the ridge, an exposed space, the wind is a banshee. I am listening to music as I run. The earbuds I’ve stuffed in my ears help dissolve the screech of air that funnels down valley. It’s tyrannical with its claws and biting teeth. It makes my ears ache. My lips are numb. It is snowing and my shirt is plastered with white. My face is wet. The wet is slowly crystalizing. Later I’ll cross up and over the train yard and look South to Scout Mountain, the peak will be dressed pure as a bride in glancing white.”
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It was just a daydream, but at times, my daydreams can come on so fast and strong that I am displaced in the withins of myself and when I come back to the here and now I feel lonesome for the space my imagination took me. And gosh, am I ever craving a winter run now.
Do you daydream?
What do you daydream about?
*Sorry for writing “crap” — that was rather common of me. No other word would do.
Lastly:
It’s old, but it’s still so good.