The Crow

Lara, this post will be short, because this New Year's Day consisted of hosting in-laws in back-to-back activities, but I managed to wear tights, plain black tights that one might wear to a job interview although I'm still in a holiday bubble. With them, I wore flat boots of leather so soft the boots go on like socks. Hours later, I went home and changed into red Frye engineer boots that I've almost broken in, because I wanted something that hurt a little for the live music I was going to see later.

Lara, I like your last post a lot. I went to see a performer named Joseph Arthur, who is a cross between William S. Burroughs and Chris Robinson from the Black Crows, and with something of the dead drug addled comic Mitch Hedberg. He made me wonder what it would be like to live in art all day, even when you are parenting, even when you are irritated or totally exhausted, or worse: jealous.

He read some of his 2012 resolutions--he had about 40 of them--from the stage and I jotted some down in my brand new red Moleskin appointment book:

--Eclipse fear.
--Let dreams learn how to be true.
--Carve from invisible stone your true love.
--Be generous.
--Accept yourself with love.

By the way, I burst into tears and sobbed during one of his songs. And by the way, the crow used to be easy for me, too, and now I can't do it at all.