Dancing With Balloons

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The Rio Grande runs through the Rio Grande Gorge – taken from an observation deck on the Gorge Bride near Taos.

“There are two means of refuge from the misery of life — music and cats.”   Albert Schweitzer 

“Everything you can imagine is real.”  ~  Pablo Picasso

“Don’t try to make life a mathematics problem with yourself in the center and everything coming out equal. When you’re good, bad things can still happen. And if you’re bad, you can still be lucky.”  ~  Barbara Kingsolver

What Barbara Kingsolver said in the final quote says a lot to me. It is especially poignant these days. Things aren’t really ‘bad’, as such. It’s that benign, subjective, minor boogyman, that is one expression of chronic clinical depression: a dark, gloaming, Prussian blue stasis; a humorless, yucky, viscous, place of glued immersion: it is not the dark place that tends to chase away friends because of it’s presence. Lucky me. Sometime since the first of the year I learned management skills that keep my mood from plunging down into the awe-deprived depths. Twas the meeting of a lovely woman, with whom I felt a spiritual connection, that did it. Ah, the first rush of love. A close relationship need not form for this rush to work it’s magick, she lifted me up into the beauty and magick of life, which jump-started my endocrine system and . . . well, I liked what I was feeling, and even if only for a fews weeks my heart felt like Donald O’Conner dancing with balloons in a movie (Do click on that link. Mr. O’Connor is a lovely talent!). Nothing came of it, as far as I know, but a faint glimmer of ‘maybe’ remains. It is that maybe, when it first was spoken implicitly, that reminded me of life and love and all that fancy stuff. I chose the word ‘fancy’ because that is what life looks like to him when our hero arises from the depths of hopelessness. Hey, why did I choose Donald O’Conner instead of Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly? Them other two fellas are much more famous. Donald made a movie about a talking mule named Francis ( another great link). That tickles me to no end. There is a donkey pasture across from my home, where one mule accompanies three donkeys. One donkey sucked on my right index finger one day, and that gesture caused me to fall in love with the sweet, gentle beasts. Of course I was afraid the ass might bite me. You have to take chances in life, otherwise . . . oh never mind. For now, I will leave the donkeys to graze so I can get around to heading on down to the laundromat. That will lift my slightly downward funk. It always does.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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