All is well. Loving showing San Francisco to the Interns, one of the largest of my independent workshops last Saturday, Opera in the Park, Mary Poppins Sing-a-long, each class with kids a jewel of sorts (some rough, some polished), a happy spirit at school, good music for my Mom and a few SF heat-wave days. And yet, the hidden spring of inspiration, such as it is, that feeds this blog has slowed to a trickle. And always the question in such cases. Why?
Though each thing I’m doing is fun and meaningful, what’s missing is a certain continuity, a certain rhythmic stride that I haven’t yet hit as I shoulder the big wheel of school’s beginning. No surprise, usually takes three to four weeks for me to settle into the schedule, organize my time, choose a few threads to stitch the days today, from my traditional Fall Dickens to a biking routine to a piano routine to a writing routine. Just haven’t felt like I’m wholly arrived back into my San Francisco life after the summer travels. And then there’s still the piles of papers in my front room waiting to be filed.
So not much blogworthy here except a clever title. Maybe that’s enough for now.