Trick Candles.
And so I am twenty.
I am an ancient baby.
Like I wrote in a blue/green book four years ago today, sitting on a beige leather couch in florida, probably listening to greenday..."And so I am sixteen..." Four years ago today I became a writer. Ha.
I can feel evolution slowing down. I am used to more rapid change than this. I am used to radical years. This one? No...not so much radical. Pretty simple actually. Pretty small and sad. [But sweet nonetheless...as usual. It's always sweet. Sweet and hard...a Peter Green favorite phrase.]
So anyway. Happy Birthday to me, out here in gray L.A., missing the east coast familiar, greatful for the good few, wishing for one thing only:
Grace under pressure.
I am an ancient baby.
Like I wrote in a blue/green book four years ago today, sitting on a beige leather couch in florida, probably listening to greenday..."And so I am sixteen..." Four years ago today I became a writer. Ha.
I can feel evolution slowing down. I am used to more rapid change than this. I am used to radical years. This one? No...not so much radical. Pretty simple actually. Pretty small and sad. [But sweet nonetheless...as usual. It's always sweet. Sweet and hard...a Peter Green favorite phrase.]
So anyway. Happy Birthday to me, out here in gray L.A., missing the east coast familiar, greatful for the good few, wishing for one thing only:
Grace under pressure.