I Know You're Special Girl, Because I Know Too Many

You go to my head and you linger like a haunting refrain 
and I find you spinning round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

(Thank you Marlene Dietrich, Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald and everyone else who sang this song. No thank you to most of what this passage describes. I would prefer a clear mind.)

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Good morning.

It is roughly 6:41am on a Friday. I have been up and working since roughly 4:30am. It is an infrequent occurrence, but the novelty of it is enjoyable.  On days like this, while watching the sky at such an absurd hour, I think of a person I know who gets up like clockwork very early each weekday morning and how we see the same sky and the same oddly empty city.

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I've been reading White Fragility by Robin Diangelo. I have read articles by her and the concept over the years, and ideas have been super helpful both to me personally but also to foster conversations, and I was interested in reading the book she wrote on it.  There is information and concepts that translate into tools to be used both in my own thinking and in addressing some of the thinking of other white folks. It's plugging into something that feels necessary on quite a few levels at the same time, which is always satisfying.


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In other news, there has been a theme of parents as of late. Mine. That of friends. That of artists I admire but don't really know but who are open and raw in their willingness to share/connect. There has been a lot going on, and in so many different directions. For me, gratefully, it has been a duo of positive moves in the second and third generations of my parents. News that has and will impact things in such a deep potential for growth. It's strange to think how much a decision or two or three can change the course of everything.

Somehow related and not related at all (and here I will admit it may be that in such early hours of the day I am a bit more emotionally filterless than usual), I am being struck by this story about an Orca in the Pacific Northwest. Somehow, it is fitting to all of the above.  You can read about it here.

Be good out there.  There are so many things to be grateful for, and an equal amount of things to fight for.

be well; be loved,

k.

(title: variation of a lyric from In My Feelings)
(italicized words from the song You Go to My Head)
(image: Daido Moriyama, Love Motel, 1970 via tamburina Tumblr)