seventeen days of phrase, medford, oregon

seventeen dayz of phrase
january ten, two thousand and ten - medford, or

Medford oregon reminds me of galway ireland with it's kindred haze.  And its affection for gray.  The perk of traveling in a bus is sleep.   The down side is that you arrive behind tinted windows, blindfolded.  I'm reminded of this holiday life tours where we saw every rolling hill with every bit of our weary red eyes.  There's nothing like a rising sun over a desperate terrain.  I took a break from intentionality to watch the green bay packers get sacked from the playoffs in an overtime shoot out.  Been feeling like I have nothing interesting to say, so it's hard to keep writing.    But I think that's my sanity in this life, to keep writing and questioning and pleading with the things I see and feel and struggle to understand. And maybe in doing that, an ancient newness will awaken in me.  And creep out through me.  I keep thinking about augustella and Eden and praying that they'll see beautiful things in their life span and they'll call it that, yet never let it quench them.  That thru hunger and sweat they'd uncover substantive truths like peeling covers off a mattress. Plato holding hands with Hegel. Kierkegaard fondling Hegel.

There's a dude that came to the show tonight suited in musical fatigues with a six string guitar slung around his shoulder.  My dad used to take me to see the Houston astros play as a kid.   I'd wear my little league uniform.   I love that dude cos You never know when you're gonna be called into battle.