Renewed Focus on Tiny Miracles

I’m gonna say first that, last evening, I was driving back from town. It was already dark out. I was blasting Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues” from the car’s CD player and I was loving every fucking moment of my life.

There are train tracks all over Muskingum County — the Ohio Central System train is the one that screams by my house, sometimes several times a day/night, and has done so, apparently, for well over 150 years. (The train tracks were laid right through this town before the Civil War, which began in 1860.)

While I was listening to “Folsom Prison Blues” (and thinking, what a weird song for an 11-year-old girl to be so in love with), I was also thinking, Wouldn’t it be so cool if the train was just suddenly somewhere around here, rushing past while I’m listening to this specific song?

For some reason, I never see trains when I’m driving around here — least of all, at night. I see tons of them from my house, or my kitchen porch. In fact, here are some:

The train getting ready to arrive, seen from my bedroom window at night. I then turned it into the cover for Girl In the Night : Erotic Love Letters to the Muse
The train as seen from my kitchen porch one afternoon last summer
The train rushing past one evening back in July, as seen from my upstairs hall window. I loved that these 2 young teenage girls were watching the train go past at the height of a summer evening because I know for a fact that they’re gonna be as old as me in the wink of a fucking eye

Anyway, I love the train but I am never in my car when it is ever around, anywhere in the entire county. And I was wishing, wouldn’t it be nice if just this once…

So last night, I was getting ready to make a right turn onto Basin Street. The CD was really blasting, gang. I mean, I play my music really loud. And even with Johnny Cash shouting at me, and a bunch of jangley guitars, I thought to myself, What the hell is that noise?

And then I turned and then I saw it!! The train was in the process of barreling past my house, a block away, and I was gonna have to wait there in the dark at the railroad crossing for it to finish passing, while listening to “Folsom Prison Blues” — one of the best train songs, ever!!

I was so excited! Another wish, granted here in Muskingum County!

I was in the happiest, most amazing mood yesterday. I woke up just deliriously happy yesterday morning.  And that train thing just capped off the whole evening.

But for some inexplicable reason, I woke up this morning, just filled with anxiety and battling depression. Why does that happen, you know? I went to sleep around midnight. I woke at 5:30am. Not a lot of time to do anything weird or different, right? And I woke up and suddenly my whole life seemed unmanageable and out of my control.

I’m guessing it’s exhaustion, gang.

Plus, I’m feeling guilty because I still haven’t talked to Sandra yet, in detail, about all these changes I’m making to the play. I know the play is really good, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to appreciate all these changes I’ve made while she was busy doing some TV show in Canada. Plus it was starting to bother me that I’m going to be spending all that money on a  suite at the Algonquin Hotel for one night in September (after I see Nick Cave at Town Hall), when I don’t know yet when I have to fly to Toronto, how long I’ll have to stay in Toronto, or where I’m even staying when I go there. I’m only going to be in that suite for a few hours, by myself — and I’m only doing it because I want to feel liberated from the entirety of my second marriage, in a spiritual sense, which has already been over for years. If Toronto weren’t looming, the cost of the suite wouldn’t bother me so much, but I finally called the Algonquin this morning and switched the reservation to a regular room there, instead.

(And it was only a couple hundred dollars difference! So I might actually call back and re-book the suite. I just don’t know.)

Anyway. I’m also freaking out a little bit because the version of the play I’m writing necessitates a much larger budget than we were initially planning on (part of why I’m worried about talking to Sandra). And even though the director keeps telling me, stop thinking about the budget, just write the best play you can. For some weird reason, this morning I woke-up thinking about nothing but that stupid budget, and it was really getting to me.

I hate trying to grapple with doubt. I really, really just hate that. Why can’t I just be on my own side all the time, you know?

I still do my meditation first thing after breakfast every day, and then do that journaling thing with my Inner Being — which told me that these were all paper tigers, and that there was nothing to fear; to just get back on the mental frequency that would disperse them.

It wasn’t easy, but I did manage to do that, even though it still kept me from getting any writing done, which started to stress me out all over again. I have only a handful of days left to finish this play and still stay on schedule.

I just want to not be exhausted, you know? I need a fucking vacation. I want to go to that cabin in the caves with Kara and sit in that hot tub under the stars!! But I can’t see that happening for awhile yet because I’m working the whole damn summer away. And all the kids around here have already gone back to fucking school!!!! What the fuck!! Where the heck is the summer going??!!

It’s freaking me out, gang…

So it wound up being a weird day for me today, after my being in such a fantastic mood last night.

I’m much better now, though. I went out driving around, listening to Push the Sky Away by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, and even while that’s not what you might call an “upbeat, happy album,” for some reason, it made me feel a lot better. It’s a really beautiful album, even though it’s very abstract and sort of violent in places.

My favorite song on the album is “Water’s Edge” — not the happiest song you’ve ever heard, but for some reason, I just love that song. I guess because it makes me think. The whole album makes me think, really, because it’s so visual and yet I don’t 100% understand all the pictures it’s putting into my head.

Which I guess was a good way to get me to stop thinking about stuff that was worrying me.

That said, it’s a really lovely evening here tonight, even though all the kids have gone back to school. It still feels like summer to me. So I’m gonna try to make the most of it, while it lasts. Tomorrow’s another day. I’m guessing the writing will go better tomorrow because it has to.

Okay. Hope Monday was okay for you, wherever you were and whatever you did! Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“Water’s Edge”

They take apart their bodies like toys for the local boys
Because they’re always there at the edge of the water
They come from the capital these city girls
Go way down where the stones meet the sea
And all you young girls, where do you hide?
Down by the water and the restless tide
And the local boys hide on the mound and watch
Reaching for the speech and the word to be heard
And the boys grow hard, hard to be heard
Hard to be heard as they reach for the speech
And search for the word on the water’s edge
But you grow old and you grow cold
Yeah you grow old and you grow cold
And they would come in their hoards these city girls
With white strings flowing from their ears
As the local boys behind the mound think long and hard
About the girls from the capital
Who dance at the water’s edge
Shaking their asses
And all you young lovers
Where do you hide?
Down by the water and the restless tide

With a bible of tricks they do with their legs
The girls reach for the speech and the speech to be heard
To be hard the local boys teem down the mound
And seize the girls from the capital
Who shriek at the edge of the water
Shriek to speak and reach for the speech
Yeah reach for the speech and be heard
But you grow old and you grow cold
Yeah you grow old and you grow cold
You grow old

Their legs wide to the world like bibles open
To be speared and taking their bodies apart like toys
They dismantle themselves by the waters edge
And reach for the speech and the wide wide world
And, God knows, the local boys

It’s the will of love
It’s the thrill of love
Ah but the chill of love
Is comin’ on

It’s the will of love
It’s the thrill of love
Ah but the chill of love
Is comin’ on

It’s the will of love
It’s the thrill of love
Ah but the chill of love
Is comin’ down, people

c – 2013  Nick Cave, Warren Ellis, Thomas Wydler

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