No posts here of late because I am blue lately . . . extra blue.

Lots of little reasons and some big reasons . . . and reasons I can’t even explain to myself.

We are good and we are on a roller-coaster–same old same old, but different–better, I think. Closer and more true–but harder, peeling back the egg-shell layers that protect us from each other, getting down to the vulnerabilities, to the real, sensitive spots.

And I am tired, ready for spring–we both are–probably everyone is, I think.

I also have much I want to say here . . . backed up, backlogged.

But there is some kind of lingering sadness . . . not sure where it will go.

Maybe I need some Miles Davis . . .


Until then Marcelo Aquilio’s work will have to do.