There is something so healing about the smell, sound, and feel of the world in-between rain showers. It’s one of the few times I actually remember to simply stop and breathe in as deeply and as frequently as possible. It’s like ingesting health, inhaling magic. It reminds me of the old (the original) Zelda game where you’d have all those hearts and at the very end you’d have that horrible beeping that made it even harder to concentrate until you found a fairy or some potion to refill all your hearts. As you inhale, you can feel the heart bar above you cease beeping and fill up to a crimson red. It was a beautiful thing to walk through this morning. Gave me the illusion (or maybe promise) that everything will really be okay.
I am so excited that it feels a little strange. I honestly don’t remember the last time I felt like this. I should have felt like this the day Gavin was born, but it was too scary and uncertain how that gorgeous little baby would alter us—I never dreamed he would be the best thing to happen to our family in years. I think the last time I felt even an inkling of this was when Chad and I were waking up to go on a vacation we’d been planning for so long. However, that doesn’t even cut it fully. That was so much fun, but it didn’t have the possible overtones that today might.
The person I am supposed to interview for the article finally called back yesterday and we are having dinner this evening. I know the article is only for a free local gay magazine, I know most people won’t read it, and I know that the person publishing hasn’t even read my work and may not like my style, but still… I get to write something that is supposed to get published—even before I write it! I’ve never interviewed someone and written about them before. We’ll I did for papers in college and grad school, but that is a completely different thing, one I didn’t care about in the slightest. I am excited how I will take an interview with someone else and turn it into something that will hopefully have my signature on it. I want the soul of my interviewee to shine through, as well as my own—a task I’ve never undertaken before. I’m not sure when I will even get the chance to write it, as I’m completely packed with my other jobs (and a half-date), and the article is due Friday. However, I will happily lose sleep over this if need be. I hope this is an omen, and opportunity, a practice run for what is to come. Not that I want to be a reporter or write about other people (not that I wouldn’t enjoy that in addition to the novels), but I am choosing to see this as one more step in the beginning. I guess it is kinda fickle, since years ago, I had a one page ‘about me’ section in this magazine—where they put your picture and you answer questions about yourself, kinda a who’s who in the gay single world of Denver. I thought it was fun, but I didn’t take it as a beginning to a modeling career or anything. This time, I can’t help but take it as commencement to things gestating. While my first choice would be something involving fiction and characters of my own, I can’t help but feel honored that I get to tell the story of a man who has given so much of himself to Haiti the past many years. It seems a story worth telling.
Looking at that. Two positive posts in a row.
Better buy a lotto ticket today.
Black Coffee Tables
1 year ago