My life at the moment is consumed by very practical matters. Feed the children. Wash the clothes. Make dinner. Buy the groceries. Pick up the mail. Clean stuff. Do it all some more. Again and again. It's not completely dismal, but it is practical.
It's 9:45 on a Friday night. The boys are finally asleep and The Babe is too, at least for the moment. CH is doing boy things. Assembling something large and electronic with the help of a friend and a beverage. REM is playing their greatest hits on the stereo.
I am here eating ice cream. It's a rare moment.
I find myself here.
(Via Tay via Maryam. like they're friends of mine even though we're perfect strangers. the internet is so fun!)
And for a moment I feel a flicker of the person who went to art school and likes to think about artsy things and be creative and spend time daydreaming about projects that would be great fun even if I never do them. And it's poetry and imagination and inspiration and boldness and bravery.
I like that girl.
She has fun.
Sometimes I get so caught up in all the practical things that I don't even remember what I'm forgetting.