Fells Point is a beautiful land in the spring air.
Mike P Ryan taking the stage at Bertha’s Mussels for the Baltimore Songwriters Association showcase on Wednesday May 20th, 2016.

Here’s a little snapshot for you.

Good morning everyone. And by good morning I mean good afternoon. Slowly the household is getting their move on. I’ve been working on a poster for the last couple of hours, rejiggering colour profiles and film grain as my coffee brews in the background. It’s a quiet Sunday morning, sunshine is brilliant in the backyard and even the neighbours’ dogs seem to be relatively chill under a pure blue sky.

It was a Lovely night plus or minus me dropping my wallet into Bertha’s musty crack, which is a whole story on it’s on, but worthy of the telling. I’ve been going to Bertha’s for several years and I generally find myself seated in pretty much the same place… the tables are tiny and I like to spread out so I often put my wallet up on the ledge above the booth and think no more about it… THIS time however there was a horrible slithering sound and my wallet VANISHED into the narrow crack between the wood of the booth and the rough wall of the venue. The bartender, having worked there for 16 years and never having encountered this particular problem. Well – I try to take this in stride and act nonchalant about the situation but in truth – I Love my wallet.

Coffee eventually draws Kristen down the stairs, and she makes her breakfast behind me as I recrop and refigure. I’m drinking out of a mug from Penzeys Spices and Kristen has one from Victoria Station. We drink out of logos we Love. By the time Kristen’s ready to head out to House of Musical Traditions I’m wrapping up my graphics work. I fire it to the client and now I’ve just got to keep my eye on the inbox for approval or requests. I open up my social media pass tabs (96 tabs, whee!) and let them load as I start up MY breakfast. Eggs are cracked, the burners are heated. Broccoli is chopped and toast is toasted, sausage is seared and eggs are beaten. It’s poetry in the kitchen and I settle down for breakfast and filling in Likes and Shares and pasting quotes, pics and videos into each of the tabs advertising various upcoming events for ilyAIMY, rob’s Open Mics, Teavolve Cafe & Lounge, Focus and more and then settle in and try some morning reading – unfortunately quickly abandoning the latter because the news doesn’t go well with eating anymore. I’ll get a book instead.

No problem. Let’s play.

And now Kristen’s somewhere on I-95 and Mosno’s coming down the stairs. He had a late gig last night and his hair is… magnificent. He joins me at the table with HIS breakfast and the laptop party commences. Before you got TOO hot and bothered I AM talking about computers – and the tapping of my Journal entry joins in with his messaging. The “morning” is firmly into afternoon by now, and one pm is coming round with just a little increase in neighbourhood noise : a sullen dog woof, tweeting birds, a half-heard singer, maybe a stereo, the kick of the refrigerator. Third cup of coffee is probably plenty, any more and I’ll get a little jittery, especially since I’m NOT gigging today.

Mosno’s got to head to Northern Virginia soon, and so once Kristen’s off I-95, we’ll just load it up with another house mate. I, however, will be right here. I’m thinking today might be mostly about making lists. I have a couple of projects coming up and I’ve got to stop just thinking about them and start planning them out. Lists are always a good start. I’ve been trying to make band practices happen. It’s amazing that it’s the end of April already, and yet May seems to be taking forever to get here. It’s the irony of time. A never-ending afternoon slowly bleeds into a hurtling, never slowing Life!

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