Project: Get Happy Now

So I've come to the realization that I have been, quite flatly, immature. I almost would say as immature as a little whining brat, but the legitimateness of the frustration I have felt has seemed more complicated to me than really really wanting to stay on the monkey bars for an inconceivable amount of more time, but maybe not. I've figured out a way to channel these surges of frustration through jogging mostly in Audubon Park- a kaleidoscope of lives circling a track, from the creatures great (giant, wooly mammoth mutts) and small (a hawk literally descended in a swoop from a tree stage right to stage left). And this is good. Very good.

But I feel that I can dig down deeper into the gold mines around me that I take for granted. Adventures await beyond bars and beer and broken glass. Arabella Street, for example. I've always had a fascination with it. It glows with magic at the dusty corners of Magazine. Have I done any more than peer down and cross? No! With the tools I have at hand, I feel compelled now to use all this gurgling energy not to choke me but to fuel me around my town. I've always depended on other native New Orleanians to take me this way and that. Well now I don't want to be ashamed when I cannot tell my roommate how to get from A to B. I want to sketch a map of everywhere I've gone, know its heart, shake its soul, by writing it through to you.

A project is in the making in my veins. A sense of grasping all the wonder of the moment in its time, in the infinite vastness that moments will keep coming. This gives me hope. This simple joy in discovery.