Musing

I should be grading.

Instead, I stopped a moment to check in on the electronic universe I'm addicted to fascinated with.  I think after the kind of day/week/month I've had lately, I can take five minutes, right?

I've got Sara Tavares playing in the background, and she always makes me ponder.  Her voice is just something beyond. I've blogged my fascination with her before.  You can search for the entry if you like.  If you haven't heard her, proceed to Grooveshark with all due speed and take a listen to Balance.  It's the one I've got spinning now (if things on iTunes can said to "spin"...my age is showing with my choice of verbs, I suspect). 

Anyway, this isn't what I'm musing over.  I was just looking at this odd mishmash of stuff I have here on the blog: fountain pens and pottery jesters; lunar insanity and crushing despair; road trips and tripping down stairs; flights of fantasy and random nightmares; and I wonder who in the world comes on these disjointed little rambles with me and why.

I know why I'm here.  I write this thing to clear the noise out of my head, to put all the broken pieces on the table and shuffle them around until a pattern appears.  It has always worked better for me; I've always been more faithful to this than to a paper-and-pen journal.  Of course, there are things I cannot say here, certain things I have to code or shield since I'm doing this little soft-shoe in front of a live studio audience....but maybe that's not a bad thing, either.  Maybe the presence of somebody in beyond the footlights keeps me more honest, more thoughtful about what's falling out of my keyboard than I might be otherwise.  Nobody likes to turn out a bad performance, after all, not in front of a paying crowd.....

The sea of essays calls to me.  My five minutes are up, and this particular little frolic has to come to an end.  I'm going to tuck up the corners of my curiosity, fold it neatly, and slide it back in the drawer until there's time for it again.  But as I pick up the pen and turn to the task at hand, I have to admit that on some level I'm still wondering.....