moving on, sort of

Here comes yet another new development in my life's adventures.

On Friday I was offered and accepted a position in development with Synchronicity Theatre Company in Atlanta. I will move there just after the first of the year. This position is part time to start with (20-25 hours per week), but the organization hopes to help me work toward it becoming full time over the next year.

[Pause for commentary: I have to say that I'm excited and nervous to be moving to Atlanta. I got a bit of a taste for living in the big city while I was in Minneapolis, and it was really fun. The grocery stores alone, my god! But I just started hearing the stories of the water shortage down there over the weekend. An interesting time to move into the area for sure.]

At the same time, I have negotiated with my current work, HERE: Honoring Experiences, Reflections, and Expressions, that I will continue to work with them from a distance at 1/4 time, returning to Blacksburg once a month, in order to conduct an event in April close the anniversary of the shootings. The event will be a multi-disciplinary artists response or reflection, with visual art in the lobby and then a performance inside the theater (spoken word, dance, music, etc.).

All in all, I must say, I'm pretty excited. Life is good. I'm going to be able to move forward into this next chapter of my life and still be able to contribute to the ongoing healing work of this community that I love so much. How could I ask for more?

Cheers!

miss destiny rides again

I traveled thousands of miles. Changed planes at Munich. I bought new clothes. There were buses and multiple hotel rooms involved, and did I mention the train ride from Florence to Venice?

I jumped from island to island of Greece and even hid out a little in Turkey and Croatia.

But still, alas, despite my best efforts, she found me. On the last week of our three-week adventure through the Mediterranean, Miss Destiny reared up and said, "I will not be left behind in the United States!" After complaining wildly about being left behind--something about another restraining order from Dolly Parton, fear of waterboarding, and the many pashminas there being in her color pallet, I agreed to let her tag along.

All this is to say that, thanks to a little encouragement from the new friends we'd made on the bus tour before we embarked on the cruise, also attributable to the giddy energy that came from a hilarious woman named, Diane, who was celebrating her birthday, oh and, by the it was Cowboy night, I entered, and ultimately won the ship's version of "American Idol," which was known on board as Princess Pop Star.

I know that you're going to ask two questions because I've already told this story a few times.

What did I sing? I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett.

What did I win? No, I did not win another cruise. I won a glass clock. I was rather disappointed until I realized that I had neglected to buy anything for one of my grandmothers on the trip. Problem solved. ;)

surreal weather day

As I walked out my door this morning, I realized that I could put my pansies and rosemary, etc. back out on the stoop. I'll probably be able to leave them there all week as I leave to go home for Thanksgiving.

It was another one of those surreal moments that come around when I realize that I'm having complete dissonance with the weather.

Global warming.

I just don't see how anyone can possibly question its validity at this point. I recently helped to work on a play where a woman who was dead and in the Underworld. She was hugged by her granddaughter, whom she no longer recognized. After the embrace, she stepped back and said, "How funny. Like warm snow." I thought about that line this morning as I walked away from my house in a light jacket and the absence of mittens. Will I have to describe snow to my niece when she's my age?

I wanted to kick myself as I realized that, despite my best intentions, I hadn't been able to get my act together enough to walk into town today. Too much running around to be done. I think, in the end, it's the errands that are my ecological footprint, rather than the commute.

And then, as I came into town, I passed a young co-ed on the street walking along in a tank top. It made me think of another great piece of art which is a scary-as-hell cautionary tale for where we might be headed--"Oryx & Crake" by Margaret Atwood. It rather foreshadows our future in terms of global warming, capitalism, and biological research all at the same time actually. A great read. But, it'll keep you up nights, I'll tell you.

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a tank top.