I was driving down the 605 freeway yesterday. There was a truck in front of me. On the bed of the truck was a tiny house. Not built for any sized person, nor the family dog, unless it were one of the yippy lappy types. It had a tiny door and tiny windows and a tiny porch. And on its tiny roof was a For Sale sign.
The For Sale sign was not tiny.
For a moment, sitting in traffic, that tiny house sparked a weird sort of freedom. I started to imagine a whole story, a whole series of stories, about what one might find in a house that size. What would the rent be? I was in a state of wonderment.
That is not, generally, how 2012 has been.
Mostly, I have felt as if I were locked within one of those tiny houses, cramped and breathless, hoping someone might help me crack open a window.
Perhaps you know the feeling.
Somewhere along the line my wonderment has dampened, has been shoved under then bed and molded. You can smell it. Since the world didn’t end, I suppose it is time to pull that wonderment out of the shadows and shine it up for 2013.
Adam Szymkowicz interviewed me for his blog. A side note: I only really know of two people who may have cried at the speech I gave at my high school graduation. I padded the numbers a bit for dramatic effect.
The Seedlings Festival at Theatricum Botanicum went wonderfully. The director and cast did a great job. Quite fittingly, the play was about the end of the world that didn’t happen. A comet was heading for the Earth…but it only managed to destroy the last twinges of love among three sisters.
I’m working on a lot of projects right now and getting very little done. But I’ve never been so excited and so terrified about all the things I have to do. So that has to be a good thing. I suspect.