Clearing The Pipes

“You, in the upstairs room, are in your usual position, leaning on your right shoulder which aches all day. You are breathing patiently; it is a beautiful sound. It is your life, which is so close to my own that I would not know where to drop the knife of separation. And what does this have to do with love, except everything?” Mary Oliver, Oxygen

There you are in your usual pose. I am sitting in the kitchen on a brand new bench my mother bought for our kitchen table. My father is playing his music loud on the speakers. The door to the back is slightly open for when the dog comes snuffling in. I am desperately trying to concoct some sort of artist fervor. I try not to think about you.

I failed, of course. Many times for many months. What is funny is this could apply to so many people from the past. Forgetting is my double edged sword. Never when I want it to be. Something about a quote from a poem that has now slipped my mind.

I am doing alright. I once again came to a conclusion that was met with my own fear, a trepidation-that of admitting to feeling happy. Or at the very least proud. I've been exploring a few different aspects of myself and my life. I have finally started selling my art in some capacity. I have no idea whether it will be even the least bit successful and yet I am ridiculously excited. There is nothing more satisfying than getting to hold pieces of your art in your hands. I love the things that I create. I have landed a semi professional job. I have saved money and consolidated debt (which is neither here nor there. Lets not focus on the debt. I never do). I have made spreadsheets and a to-do list. I have made friends. Some that I very much truly enjoy. I have let go of some things. Held on to others. Done both to the same memories. I am what remains. 

What I have not done is write. For years all I've wanted is a daily record. Something that is not that hard once established, but, like most habits, nearly impossible to begin. I just want to be able to remember. Something about touchstones giving you access to everything else. If I build a monument then I will be able to navigate my way around myself and my past. My life really. A monument to memory. 

I do miss school. I miss my city. And yet It's still hard to know which path. ‘The sky or the seat’. Quoting myself. Insisting upon myself. 

Anyways, this is short and vague. Just something to clear the pipes.