Reunion With The Muse ...

The morning was quiet. The afternoon was meltdown-y. But I'll spare you that story.

Better to begin at 8pm, when I picked up The Muse so we could continue birthday week. How can it be that we haven't had an evening together since Imbolc?!? Hell, we haven't even seen each other since that awful mid-February shamanic journey. I know we're a bit star-crossed, but still ...

Before we got to our proper birthday celebration & reunion, we stopped at the kirtan superjam up the street, so I could bail Beth Ann out of a flat gig I'd previously turned down, and so The Muse could hear a little of our music. (She's only heard us once; at that strange kundalini gig on New Year's Eve.) Walking in the studio, I was not surprised that they didn't turn the temperature down from hospice, since I wasn't actually supposed to be there.

There was a nice crowd, over 30 people, and with the door right at the front of the room, there was no real graceful way for me to enter without causing a ruckus. So I just owned it, and swanned in like Snape in my big black coat, and admit I was not all that surprised when people started clapping. Even though this was supposed to be a devotional event. I'm such a troublemaker sometimes ...

It's kind of hard to talk about what happened next without sounding like an insufferable asshat. So I'll just say that it took me about half a measure to completely change the energy in the room, and the clapping did not stop, and The Muse and I could not stop looking at each other. (She later told me my playing was "sexy" ... ) I finished the song, then played Jai Ma, then swanned out as suddenly as I appeared. We did have other plans, after all ...

She wanted to go somewhere nice, somewhere elegant, which is a bit tough with my limited palette, but we eventually agreed on Veggie Heaven. Unfortunately, she had a hard time conveying to the waiter how utterly severe her tree nut allergy is, so she ended up barely eating. But we had a solution for that ...

She remembered the corner booth of the PQ very fondly from our Imbolc date, so we went there for part two. We had been building our parallel world all night, from the minute she got in the car before the kirtan, but when we settled into that booth, everything got deeper, sharper, more honest.

So much of what we feel and talk about is so personal, (though much of it does end up as fuel for my poems), so I hope you'll forgive me for not going into too much detail here. Just know that when we're together we see each other as no one else sees us, and we know that we are continuing a story with roots that go so so very deep. There is nothing like these nights. Nothing.

It was already after midnight when we got back in the car. Neither of us wanted me to take her home. We just wanted to drive forever. But that wasn't possible, of course, so we headed back. When we pulled up to her house, before the I don't want to go hugging, I showed her the Sigur Ros video from my phone. She cried. I cried. And that was that.

Fuck. Just ... fuck.
Why does life have to be so complicated sometimes?
Good night.