Hello Again
Friday, February 23rd, 20011:59 AM, and then…then it would whisper, February. The bell fountainhead is silent. The air is black and cold. The trees? Dark bare lines jutting skyward. The stars are hard and bright. When I am out there, my breath steams.
And yet heat is coming. They say the weekend will shift toward warmth.
What I hear, as I type, is electronic music. Percussive flourishes, looping beats. Technological notes cupped over my ears. The water in my glass is perfectly cold. The night outside is so black that my window looks like a sheet of obsidian. I’m typing with the beat in my headphones. This is like dancing — or playing a keyboard.
It has been a while. Eh?
But this is a pretty fluid medium. You’ll be able to read these entries in a sweep, the passage of time ticking over with a barely noticeable click. Perhaps the sound of my fingers hitting the keys. Maybe I’ll remember the beat in my headphones when I re-read this. Another metronome.
It seems a journal, like anything else, has a rhythm. Seasons. Beat. All this just works out as it goes along. The real key is in spanning time.
I enjoy writing in Tangerine and I have missed updating.
It feels good to be back to it.
Hello again.
— JWR, 2/23/01