Over the years many people had referred to me as having an “old soul”. An intense gaze, someone who thinks, I’ve been associated with wisdom, with someone who has perhaps Lived previous Lives. And because it was flattery, I would take it to heart…
Nowadays I think that such allegations were perhaps quite foolish. If anything, I’m pretty sure this is my first time around. With any concepts of reincarnation or of “trying till you get it right” pretty unconvincing in my head in any case, as I’ve grown older I’ve felt less and less like I’ve got a firm grasp on the world around me. I’ve realized that everything I thought I knew about the people around me was more likely being projected upon them by my own perception.
I’m not deep. I used to be. I used to care about a lot of things, and be alarmed by them. I used to search for the hidden meaning of art and be Seriously Offended by many things. I don’t know if I’ve relaxed or grown dull, but truly – things like the City Museum, filled with whimsy and hive-activity, outshine cathedrals and art museums. Tree houses built for children by the blood and sweat of parents, be they simply blank planks decorated with markers and hidden in branches or carefully constructed miniature buildings that we marvel at from the side of the highway – the insane collections of lawn gnomes or the brilliantly organized homes of people that we’ve stayed with…. Hell, watch the Ace of Cakes and tell me there’s anything there but the joy of creating those cakes, and then tell me that’s not worthwhile…
I’ve been thinking about ilyAIMY. We get complaints about the name. It doesn’t make sense. No one can pronounce it. It’s hard to spell… who the fuck cares? I Love You And I Miss You. It’s truly what we write about. Occasionally we’ll throw some tidbit of thought towards politics (MOUSE!!!) or a murder ballad or … well… yes… mice. But often even these are reflections of our own relationships with people – and all of the other things, distilled and at their root, come back to our relationships with others. Whether the politics with other countries can be boiled down to Freudian sexual power-struggles or not, the people making these huge decisions about Life and death for millions upon millions of people are very rarely so selfless that those interpersonal relationships fail to be involved in those determinations.
Hrm. Maybe I’m a little deep after all. But I doubt it. I’m happy to lay back and enjoy the drive. I-70 once again, that faithful companion, has been with me more miles than Heather and the sunshine is something that doesn’t care if I’m here or not, but I’m happy to soak it all in.
The number of really amazing performers at the Columbus Bar open mic that we ran in Columbus, IN was really, really high. We went through the list pretty fast and I was all too happy to go around again. I’d be happy to book any of the performers from the night back home as a feature… or Hell, I’d be grateful to open for them.
We even got a couple of exotic things. Despite mostly being white guys with guitars, we also got an excellent performance poet, a couple of djembes and a cellist.
I know it’s better for the bar for us to play up high on the balcony, and there’s a certain novelty to that stage, but it was nice to be down on the floor at the Columbus Bar again. After the amazing talents of the night, I was almost embarassed to get up and play myself but we got good audience Loving and had a great time. And someone’s chocolate cake!
