Missed rehearsal

It's all sparks and heat, though there is something to be said for calm sanity ruling the day.  Must've dreamt about hummingbirds and crows, I don't have any memory of it, but seeing both today keeps eliciting an as of yet unidentified emotional response.  Wispy things, hard to grab ahold of, these fleeting memories of dream states.  They pull my focus, over and over, as if I should know something that I don't.  The hummingbird sits on the branch, in between visiting flowers, wet, and scraggly in it's winter plumage.  It swings it's head from side to side, possibly singing, possibly just looking around.  The crow looks at me and only waddles a few feet over when I pass by: unconcerned, not in any hurry.

And I want to mention that I hit the jack-pot with the woman that cut my hair: I love this haircut!  (And I have only said that a handful of times ever.)  Wish I had saved enough to get my headshots done now. Oh, well, maybe I should take a picture of it (for bang length, facial framing.)

After work, a brief, lingering orange in the western sky before giving way to night.  An almost full moon climbs it's way toward its's zenith, the sky scrubbed clean after a day of rain.  I walk carefully over wet brick, memory of the slippery soles in my mind even though my current shoes have a decent grip to them.  After meeting with my partner, I manage to miss three busses, and consequently miss rehearsal (singing.)  For the last two, I could've run, but didn't think I would make it, still thought I'd slip and fall.  After the third, I go into a record store, I haven't been in in a while.  The vinyl selection has doubled or tripled, beginning to look like a record store from the late 80's.  And they said vinyl was dead, never coming back.

Again, this one makes me laugh.  But joy is a valid emotional state, not all emotions are tears and shouting matches.  These last three...I don't necessarily feel like I'm using the laughter to cover something up; I think I'm just laughing.  Whatever comes up for the exercise, it'll be safe to go there.  (And oddly enough, the mere thought of that makes me cry.)