Happy day three! I'm writing this from a tattoo shop, freshly inked for the fourth time, and the Denver sun is blasting. There are black-eyed susans poking up from beneath the street signs and breweries around every corner. The tattoo shop is selling palo santo. This morning I woke up to a cat sitting on my back. There's nothing I can complain about—other than the burning sensation on my thigh for the new wound I just added. But even that feels pretty good.
I knew it would be hard for me to start this challenge on a trip—yesterday we moved from hiking to brunch to pedal-hopping to dinner to karaoke to bed. But as my friend Kaitlyn so accurately pointed out, that's why it's called "a challenge." And challenges are rewarding. Finding the time to do just a bit of yoga, or write a poem, while surrounded by so many friends and activity and booze has given me a moment to press pause and appreciate my surroundings.
This morning I sat in the grass and drank my coffee while reading Mary Ruefle. I like this poem for it's narrative and the little/big button at the end. I like the images, especially "the sad toy upside down in the street." I like the movement, the timelessness, and the bits of familiarity that reaches out to me like an olive branch. It makes me think of how being in love encourages us to latch on to the tiniest details of the world around us. The hum of an air conditioner on a gray morning, the scratchy sound of christmas paper wrapping being torn from a book. Coffee does not just taste like caramel—it is a Werther's original. The details. We always go back to the details.
Concerning Essential Existence
The horse mounted he mare slowly and precisely
and then stopped.
He was profoundly disturbed by a piece of straw.
He was profoundly distracted by the sad toy
upside down in the street.
He was profoundly disengaged by half a cloud
In the corner of his wet eye.
And then he continued.
Nothing is forgot by lovers
Except who they are.