Summer, my thirties, the pears I canned last year…so many cool things on the verge of being gone forever.
Stupid finite human reality. I hate it.
Now I have regrets…like I should have blogged during August (I’m a slacker). Should’ve made more of myself during the decade of my thirties. I should have savored those pears a little more (especially because I didn’t can any this year).
But when ISN’T an end near? The end of something, anyway.
I know that’s life and all, but when I have to say goodbye to summer, I never want to. And maybe I wasn’t writing like I should have been, but I did lots of cool stuff…
- Went to writer camp at the Rainier Writing Workshop (as part of my MFA program) with some of the coolest people in the universe.
- Went to a fair and also to a carnival.
- Hung out with my favorite girl and we hiked, explored several beaches, and picked berries.
Oh, and also I made pickles and saw a newt.
I mean, I did other stuff, too, but enough pics–don’t you hate it when people make you look at their photo albums!?
The great thing about an end of something, is that it’s usually the beginning of something else.
For example, today is the very last day of August, BUT tomorrow is the first day of September and that’s the day I’ll get on a plane and fly to Vermont where I’ll begin a real artists residency (in writing) at the Vermont Studio Center. That’s a pretty rad beginning.
I’m excited to start new stuff, even while I’m grieving certain lost things. Like how I won’t be able to be there on my daughter’s first day of school–an event I’ve never missed.
That’s how it is, I guess, you get things, and you give things up. Stupid.
I want everything.