Catching Up to 2013

On the phone, outside, pacing.  Yes, I pace when I talk.  And I smoke most times too.

Its early in the morning, raining, 30 some degrees.  In my chanclas.  And I’m walking in circles like the conversation I’m in, hoping I can remember the call once I hang up.  In the back of my mind, a laundry list of things.  I’m pacing around on this Seattle street, but in my mind’s eye I’m stepping over and around the heap of things called ‘to-do’ when – SMACK –

spirals n scribbles

10 years in, and a whole lotta anxious. That was the scenario when I contemplated my future out loud with a longtime compañera, in a bar, of course. There came a point in the conversation where she leaned in as I spun myself in circles of questions, and looking real serious posed the question: So. What do you want to be in the movement, an architect or a carpenter?