Thursday, January 23, 2003

I feel like I should write some closing words here, in the vein of an adventurer unsure of his return. Today, I drive out to meet Terry and Kerstin's new baby, Kai, in the middle of rural Missouri, on a windswept homestead, on what is the coldest day of the year. I slept a full eight hours last night, and I think I may make this a caffeine free day. But then I'd miss out on all the interesting self conversations on the three hour drive out there. I wish I could take Loki with me, to keep me warm in the car. If only their goats didn't look so tasty.  No cell phone. No Internet. Just home and friends. Without all the extrinsic distrations, I spent perhaps my most productive week ever out there June of 1999, alone, taking care of their post-operative dog and their garden and writing a good chunk of a screenplay and building and running and making preserves. All the little things add up to a lot over a day. Being away from it all, even for a short period, makes me realize how rich my days are with time - the minutes just get nitpicked away, living in the modern world. One of my anxieties going out there is all the stuff, my everyday check list, that I'm leaving behing, which is exactly why I should go more often. I'll return. But, as every time, it will be a slightly different me, or a more same me, with a little more breath, a little more real.   8:28:01 AM