Secret Pop

Jan 22, 2002

The heart wants what the heart wants.

I began a lot of things today. And after having had so few hours of sleep last night that they could have been counted on the hand of a three-fingered man, that seems like something of which to be proud. I haven't set anything monumental in motion, but I have ideas about it. And I took pictures of myself in the conference room at my office because the sunlight at 5 P.M. was so golden I felt like my heart would explode. So I set my digital camera on the ledge and took pictures of me, one of which has become the new entrance to my web site. How proud I am. I have been taking a lot of pictures lately. A lot of them are of me. And a lot of them cannot ever be seen by others because of universal laws that govern such behavior. But that's no reason to keep from crowing about them.

I had a bout with my fear of mortality this past weekend when a close friend of my family died suddenly. In the face of it, I felt as if my heartbeat slowed and quieted and my mind just began to crawl through the humbling reality of it. Like pulling a wagon through streets coated in molasses. It wasn't so easy to move past the thinking.

I have spent too much time.

I have spent too little time.

I have spent time carelessly.

But I don't want to waste what is precious. And I don't want to squander what cannot be replaced. And I don't want to take things for granted or tell myself that I can finish this thought after dinner or I can feel this tomorrow. I don't want to be caught out. I don't want to wake up on some new morning and find that I overslept and missed everything that mattered.

So, when the sunlight is brilliant and golden, and the sky is clear, and the inclination beckons, I take pictures.

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