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but one time I ran too fast
Sep. 16th, 2001 03:01 amand caught myself. I didn't know what to do, so I let myself go...
I'm sitting here asking myself why I don't feel like writing anything, and to my surprise the answer is that I have little to say for the first time in what feels like weeks. I'll just say little with many words, then.
I was changing my shoes in my car at 12:15 this morning, looking at downtown from the top of Lake Union. It was beautiful. A perfect Seattle night, with the city glowing emerald true to its namesake, and the sky glowing white right back. I felt so safe. So safe that it didn't occur to me that I even felt anything.
After 7 hours of focusing on nothing but running a stranger's wedding reception, my mind kind of bottoms out and I'm unable to really think about anything but next song - last song - haul that stuff - heavy speakers - wimpy car - bad combination - whatever. And I thought to myself, millions of people looked at their home city Tuesday night and 2 big buildings (and their occupants) weren't there anymore. And I felt not much, which I noted with interest, it being the first time that happened, and got out of the car to load the speakers.
Forgive me for dwelling on NY, it's just that I don't feel like talking about my gigs has a lot of relevance anymore, or yet. It is a singular experience to have a disaster so shape your life that I'm finding it strange when dealing with the many many minor repercussions to feel this twinge somewhere behind my gut. A reminder that there remains a great sadness haunting my bones.
The banquet captain asked me how I was dealing with the events of this week. What events? I asked her. (beat) Ooooh...
At which point I think I came off a little too chipper. But whatever. I was quite busy and had a party to throw.
'Twas not a good day for mourning.
I'm sitting here asking myself why I don't feel like writing anything, and to my surprise the answer is that I have little to say for the first time in what feels like weeks. I'll just say little with many words, then.
I was changing my shoes in my car at 12:15 this morning, looking at downtown from the top of Lake Union. It was beautiful. A perfect Seattle night, with the city glowing emerald true to its namesake, and the sky glowing white right back. I felt so safe. So safe that it didn't occur to me that I even felt anything.
After 7 hours of focusing on nothing but running a stranger's wedding reception, my mind kind of bottoms out and I'm unable to really think about anything but next song - last song - haul that stuff - heavy speakers - wimpy car - bad combination - whatever. And I thought to myself, millions of people looked at their home city Tuesday night and 2 big buildings (and their occupants) weren't there anymore. And I felt not much, which I noted with interest, it being the first time that happened, and got out of the car to load the speakers.
Forgive me for dwelling on NY, it's just that I don't feel like talking about my gigs has a lot of relevance anymore, or yet. It is a singular experience to have a disaster so shape your life that I'm finding it strange when dealing with the many many minor repercussions to feel this twinge somewhere behind my gut. A reminder that there remains a great sadness haunting my bones.
The banquet captain asked me how I was dealing with the events of this week. What events? I asked her. (beat) Ooooh...
At which point I think I came off a little too chipper. But whatever. I was quite busy and had a party to throw.
'Twas not a good day for mourning.
