Dancing in the Moonlight

Parking Garage Still Life

Even Artsier Parking Garage Still Life

I need some sort of fire quote from Dante to go here

Maybe here as well

I was trying to get the reflection and kinda of got it

After a long day at the end of a long weekend, at then end of a long week I went for a long drive. Driving to think, to listen. I had a lot of long talks this week and by long talks I mean long talks and long listens. Some people talked about their lives, their loves, their fears, their worries, their woes. Others just wanted to hangout, and forget life for awhile, to digest thoughts and feelings. Over lunch, over beer, in the car, over coffee, on the phone, talking, sharing, processing life. Some trenches are deeper than others, some are familiar to me and some are not. You don't have to have fallen down every trench to toss someone a rope, you don't have to be out of every trench to tell which way is up. I drove to process all I had taken in, drove, listened to Nina Simone, and prayed. Driving, just driving, and listening. Thinking, processing, praying. Lots of prayer these days. Lots of driving too. It is cathartic, and expensive. But it works. I drove to the top of the Lewiston Grade and just looked out at the lights of the city. The breeze coming up from the valley was warm compared to Pullman, and as I stood overlooking the city with all its lights spread out beneath me, my car blaring jazz tunes, my camera taking long exposures, I sang and I danced. It was a gimpy, hobbling dance, that I'm sure might have been mistaken for an epileptic seizure, or drunken revels. For an hour it was just me, Nina and the moon. Sometimes I danced, sometimes I sang, sometimes I just sat and listened. Listened to the wind, to the music, processing all my conversations in ways I don't even begin to understand.

Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground.

I could type all night and not even begin to understand how I work
It's late - I should go to bed