a memory bracelet
Things are changing in my world these days.
I’ve been moving all over the place! From Antarctica to New Zealand to Australia to Seattle to Thailand to Seattle again to Portland to Salt Lake City to Denver to Noblesville to Chicago to Seattle again to Denver again to Seattle again, then to Coquille to Portland again to Seattle again to Denver again and back to Antarctica again.
Man, what a weird year, right?
And in the middle of all that The Beep Beeps recorded an album, I went to a wedding, I did a lot of ridesharing, I broke up with my girlfriend of 4 years, the HotBox was vacated, I re-built and re-launched ListYourList, and visited the Homestead for 3 weeks, all before going back to Antarctica for another winter on the ice.
Sometimes I get flack for twittering too much, but my obsession with it comes from a truly genuine place: a place where my memories don’t last forever, a place where if I don’t write that down right now, I’ll forget it. I’ve experienced SO much in the last 12 months that it’s hard to keep it all straight. Luckily, I wrote most of it down.
And then the other day, during the HotBox yard sale, I found this weird little piece of fabric on the ground. I snatched it up and started twirling it around in my fingers. I tied the two ends together and slide it onto my wrist; it was a completely subconscious act.
A few minutes later I looked down at my hand and I was sorta surprised. See, I NEVER wear anything on my wrists: no watches, no bracelets, no nothing. I don’t like the feeling and it just doesn’t happen. So, why this little cloth bracelet? And why now?
I left it on the rest of the day and when we were leaving the house that night, for the last time ever, I realized that maybe I put that bracelet on for a reason. Why else would I have done something that I never do? So, I vowed to keep it on until it falls off, in memory of the HotBox, in memory of this crazy-ass summer, in memory of something that can’t be described in 140 characters.
