Scott and I stopped at a skateboarding inspired art show on our way home from dinner the other night. There were lots of letters pinned to the walls. They inspired me to write some myself. Do you still like to write letters?
The breeze has been just the right temperature today. I want it to find me wherever I go, so I've opened all of the windows.
I'm happy to take a moment to lie on the couch and ice my knees because I've been woken-up by the weirdest dreams lately.
One involved swimming with dead fish. Another had me flying up into the night sky on a fan powered motorcycle while wild horses jumped thousands of feet in the air to bite at my ankles. Then the horses turned into constellations.
Most of this is miserable, although there's some joy at the finish because these nightmares leave me washed over with appreciation for my life.
Over the weekend we spent some time with my parents and I apologized to my dad for trying to get out of a taco party he wanted to throw. He didn't seem like it had upset him the way I had convinced myself it would; then he told me to read the book The Old Man and the Sea because it is so descriptive. He thought, as a writer, that I would like it.
Last night I only dreamed I was hanging out with pro-skateboarder Nora Vasconcellos. I think order has been restored. I hope you had a good weekend too.