“Yes, and…”

“Yes and…”

Words that I have tried to live by since first learning improvisation in NM oh so many years ago.

“No but…”

Life gets in the way.

“Fuck that…”

I turned 49, then 50, then 51. Life’s too short. Or too long depending on my day.

“Yes and…” to return to the original thought.

My life has taken many new turns on what I thought was a familiar road. I seem to have swerved and taken a side street that opened up to a wide boulevard with shiny new attractions along the way.

What a view!

I don’t know where it leads. I have no map (at least not for this area). There’s an information booth but the hours are sketchy. I get hints but no real direction. I must follow my instinct, my “yes and…” instinct.

That’s what got me here in the first place. I’m excited and unsure at the same time. It says “gas and food” ahead but I can’t see them (need new glasses), too many bends. Signs seem to point in the right direction according to my heart-compass, but they are few and far between and sometimes misspelled which really gets my goat. Maybe that goat ate the map I needed? See? This is what happens, I’m on this road and then I’m distracted by goats and and the urge to turn around and go to that inn that I’ve stayed at before with the squeaky faucets and broken door knob.

Stay on the road. Stay awake. More coffee needed.

I am staying on this road leading away from the one that I’ve traveled on day in and day out. I’ll let you know when I pull over and take a picture. I’ll send a postcard (if I could only find a drug store…and a bathroom).

Stay tuned.

 

 

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