-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
Needed to work off some nervous energy, so I got dressed and walked up to City Hall. That's a good fifty or sixty block walk, for those of you who have both have no idea where I live and don't live in Philadelphia. I haven't done that walk in a long, long time. It was needed.
Started off with Duality, then edged into Vermillion for a few repeats, then the acoustic version of The Hollow. Somewhere in there was an acoustic version of The Freshmen. After that I just let the iPod be random and more often than not, the music was appropriate to my mood and surroundings.
I walked up South St. to Broad, then up and around City Hall. Then back down. Took about an hour and fifteen minutes, and just as I was locking the front gate and heading up the walkway to my front door, Nancy called.
She has been reading some stuff I sent her the other night, and used words that would have had me blushing had I not just worked up a decent sweat in the process of walking fifty fucking blocks. Thanks to the Irish blood running down the Allen line, I tend to glow red after a moderate amount of exertion. The word "talent" was uttered a number of times, which is a word that always makes me really nervous. I tried to explain to her that whatever I have in me, regardless of its quality, isn't something, as Gibson put it, I have consistant access to. But she liked it all, and that makes me happy.
I also related to her my idea of flying down there for Thanksgiving, though that's an entirely arbitrary date, really. The idea went over very well.
Now I'm going to put All That Could Have Been, Still on repeat and stare at the ceiling for a while.