Normally I'm against blogging for the sake of blogging, but I'm also against being awake at 9 a.m. on a Saturday, and I'm doing that right now too. I figured it was time I say hi and not talk about Prop. 8 (although there's a protest starting in an hour, which I'll be missing because I'll be in a meeting held in an icy basement). So. A couple of random updates.
I just got back from an inspiring work trip to San Francisco, where writer Jewelle Gomez reminded a group of us that art is about faith and activism. When the economy sucks as profoundly as it sucks right now, art seems both more difficult and like our only hope.
On the way home, AK and I stopped in San Luis Obispo, where we saw her college friends Ryan and Sarah, and their daughter Hattie. Last time we saw Hattie, she was a small pink nub of a human sleeping in an infant seat. Now she's a busy, blonde-haired one-year-old who likes to present people with her favorite toys and do impressions of farm animals with varying degrees of realism (her dog is very good; her horse accent, her parents pointed out, is somewhat unconvincing).
We jogged along the seaside bluff at Montana de Oro, which is really how jogging should be done. With dusty brush and leaping deer and seaweed-smelling wind. If we lived next to a seaside bluff, we decided, we'd be training for a marathon rather than a 10K. (Actually we'd probably take our bluff for granted and do the same things we always do.)
I've been more into nature lately. It worries me, sometimes, because in spite of voting for the guy who was all about change, I actually find change a little scary. Also, I'm worried that eventually I'll start wanting to live in seaside/wooded/mountainous landscapes that are A) expensive and B) prone to fires. I mean, I'll always love urban grime, it's just that I may be willing to accept that flowers are pretty after all.