The sky is a clear one tonight–the Penguins won the game and I had to hold my bike headlight in place with one hand for most of the ride home. Plus something in my lunch contained dairy so my stomach has been a centralized chaos, lugging the body up the hill home from work. Climb, climb climb.

Book release tomorrow! I’m quite excited. I would say more in awe perhaps, over any emotion/reaction/thought I could have concerning it right now. In awe that so many great, creative people jumped on board to be a part of it. In awe that I have been a part of the alumni Shadow Lounge family for going on seven years now. That microphone is home.

Sometimes I think about how awkward I get to feeling in large crowd, in fastwalking to work, at work, stuck between conversations. Then I think about writing and how doing it makes me feel, how nothing makes quite that much sense. And all that awkwardness dissipates. There is a little purpose, and I hold it as close as I can press it to the sternum. Mine. Passion and creativity–as frustrating as they can be at times, they are two constants…a constellation to guide me through. I started writing my formal bio last night while bartending and found the first line easy: it’s something I’ve been fascinated with since the first crayon became wrapped by my fist. And a name was written. Crooked, I’m sure. I’ll never forget about discovering words; the learning never stops. Onward, into the traffic of oncoming sentences. Still forming them.