:: anne in the attic ::
::::: ANNE IN THE ATTIC :::::
:: Sunday, February 22, 2004 ::
Happy Birthday to my little blog, which is a year old this month.
After a week of chilly mornings and sunny afternoons, the crocuses have opened fully. Like small cupped hands, they seem to offer up some small hope after the storms of winter. I've been working in another area that has what I have called mortuary homes, for their architecture, their vertices, their quiet, careful expanse. Their straight and sombre lines are offset by the twisted branches of the curly willows. When in these areas, there seems to be room to move inside my head while I work, room for my thoughts to wander or pause. And they do. It seems my songwriting has picked up some (as it seems to do in February, my month-most-hated).
I finally ordered the new computer I've been researching. It's a powerful machine with a mean clock speed, a double RAID-1 drive, 2GB of DDR RAM, Audigy 2 sound, and a nice big, visible-from-across-the-room flat screen monitor. This is the recording studio, a dedicated machine. In a week or two, it will arrive, once they have built and sufficiently tested my custom demands. Anticipating this new addition, I am busy preparing appropriate space -- clearing, cleaning, arranging. Will this be the final tool, I wonder, the catalyst of time and space that will allow me to finish the work I have begun?
Through others, I am also in remembrance these days. There have been losses all around me, and I step carefully among them, sidestepping my own as I acknowledge theirs. What a dance it takes to do this. I will not say the word, for it does not do justice to what goes on beneath. But Ericsson wrote that it is what "makes us look for a face in the crowd, knowing full well the face we want cannot be found in any crowd."
:: Anne 10:22 AM [smartass remarks] ::
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