First of all, a description of the day out there:
Phoned my Collingwood rehearsal before 8am and said it looked iffy, then went back to sleep.
All of this adds up to Permission.
To sleep, which I’ve done. To stretch the day into a different shape, which I’m doing. A shape that can contain a sense of the eternal. A shape that defies distance and time and brings all the resonant things I love here, into this pulsing place.
To decide, then, what to do with all of this wealth. The art show is up, and we raised the roof well last night, in celebration of all of us.
I will write music now, and sing.
Have I said this before? Snow days are SUCH a gift.