Get on the bus

Too much art can be dangerous. It reminds me of all that I haven't accomplished and makes me yearn for more time for writing and moviemaking and other arts, time I can't afford to give.

Tonight, Sarah performed four piano pieces at Fourth Friday, then hopped in the car with a friend of hers and me to zip off to the Stars concert at the Cat's Cradle in Carrboro. I know very little about the band's music, but the show--despite the typical lousy club mix--made me determined to check them out further. Though the drive home in the pouring rain--for which all of us in this area are quite grateful--was exhausting, I'm still glad I went.

In thinking about art tonight, I realized that I am on the bus, at least a little: I write every day. I find some small solace in that fact, and I hope that I will be able to carve out bigger chunks of time each day in the months and years that I hope are still to come.

Oh, lest I forget: Sarah is today's RPS sad panda, because the streak is over.