The discussion behind the performance, the novels, and the writing
Friday, March 7, 2008
It's raining against my window. The familiar sound is strangely unfamiliar, reminding me it has been a dry, sunny spring--so unPortland. I've appreciated, noticed, and soaked up the sunny patterns brightening my school walls, the ability to walk and bike. But, it is Oregon, it is spring, and I need the rain, welcome it back, feel order has been restored by the light tapping against the window behind my back.