21 February 2006
Hush. Quiet now. Be still and then move about furiously. I'm resting. I'm writing. It is simultaneously a moment of recuperation and preparation. We're in Abbotsford. Wrote two songs and purged myself of poetry.
This is the border, and we're on the verge of entering Vancouver and Victoria, the cities where I have staged my most splendid successes and fantastic failures. I celebrate both as if there is no distinction. I am a firm believer in the motto, make mistakes faster. But what will those events and people and lessons and past lives look like when they are littered on the streets of the cities that I have missed so much? Now, there are no Rockies and prairies and badlands separating me from those successes and failures. Now, they threaten to trip me, tangle up my feet in words twisted together like rope, while I am staring up at the buildings and signs that seduced me the first time I saw these cities.
Will I still love these cities? Will they still love me?
Bring it on. I can't wait to find out.
This is the border, and we're on the verge of entering Vancouver and Victoria, the cities where I have staged my most splendid successes and fantastic failures. I celebrate both as if there is no distinction. I am a firm believer in the motto, make mistakes faster. But what will those events and people and lessons and past lives look like when they are littered on the streets of the cities that I have missed so much? Now, there are no Rockies and prairies and badlands separating me from those successes and failures. Now, they threaten to trip me, tangle up my feet in words twisted together like rope, while I am staring up at the buildings and signs that seduced me the first time I saw these cities.
Will I still love these cities? Will they still love me?
Bring it on. I can't wait to find out.
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