Partly Cloudy, Awaiting Snow

shank's mare (SHANGKS mare) noun

One's own legs. Also known as shank's pony.

I'm standing in a thick tub of Almost Finished. I'm close to finalizing my application, I'm close to leaving for the holidays, I'm close to two or three projects in January.

I just accepted an invitation to join a theater company and making that experience its own blog for the New Year.

Overall, today, with Built to Spill rhythms chugging from home-stolen-for-workplace speakers, I am excited about all my endeavors. I suddenly feel...achieving. The creative aches never dissipate, but that makes me me. It's not a noble thing, it's not about the greater good, or good at all. Occasionally, I just get flashes of who I really am, and where I find joy. That's all it really is. Following my mostly invisible eponymous avenue.

This is a gear shift.

Don't give in to the Bitter Culture Machine, the consuming strain of cultivating sensibility through the fictions of dollar signs and their ever-present depictions of wealth and possibility. We are our own creations, we are our own connections. There are, too, etched-in names and carved reliefs on the inside of prison walls.