Where I've been

I went for my first flight in a small plane today--a Piper Cherokee. It was quite amazing. I went to help J conquer her fear of flying, and she squeezed my hand so hard she drew blood. But by the end of the flight she was beaming. We only flew to Camarillo and then back to Van Nuys, but it was lovely nonetheless. Approaching Camarillo, the ocean peeks out at the horizon and the hills are mossy and green from all of our rain. And to watch someone face down a fear like that--what a privilege. Words don't do it justice, but despite that I am writing a story about it.

Which goes a long way to my explanation about the paucity of posts lately. I have been writing my other stuff. All I want to do is stay home and write poems and stories. Everything else feels like an inconvenience. And along with that, it has been nutty busy at work. I am multi-tasking to a degree that makes me nervous, I feel like the space shuttle when those little pieces break off. "She's doin' all she can Captain..."

So that's what's happening. I am really happy to be writing so much. It's sad the blog is suffering, but maybe I will find that warp in the time-space continuum yet. I have been looking...