(At least that's what I'm aspiring to be now.) Yesterday I went to all the guitar centers I knew - which truthfully weren't that many. I sat in the practice room and played as many as I could to get a good feel for sound, shape, the smell of the wood...ah it was invigorating. I had to find one that fit. It's like picking your wand (I've been reading the Harry Potter books again.) You just have to find one that feels right and fits right and you know it when you play it. I was ecstatic as I carried it out of the store in it's hard black case along Santa Monica Blvd. I think my Bohemian tendencies have finally come full circle. So now I just have to get a book, learn more chords, and practice. I've already written two songs that I keep practicing, which I've discovered has been just as liberating for me as running. Yesterday was really a happy day. I've also been working on a script about Gordon B. Hinckley and have immensely enjoyed the research and insights I'm gaining from it. It's been very uplifting and I'm grateful for that. I've been playing a little frisbee with the kids in the hood too. I'm glad there's kids around here. And a final note, I have to give three cheers for freelance work. On Friday I got up early and did some writing, then I felt like going to the gym to clear my head and ended up playing basketball with a Hispanic guy named Michael who said I was like static electricity out there. I did beat him by the way. I'll admit that it probably helped that he wasn't much taller than me. And when I was done, it was such a beautiful day that I couldn't resist driving to the ocean and having a moment on the rocks by the tide. Just me and my ipod. My life is still a bit on shuffle at the moment (don't ask me what my definite plans are come June) and as disconcerting as that is at times I have to say that it's also made me live life a little more in the moment: to be more present in the present. It has made the concept of life a little richer. Yeah life is good. Who know what the tide will bring in tomorrow.
