It's a sunny day.

It's a sunny day. It's a title to a Paul Simon song. I have always been drawn to a play by Israel Horovitz called Hopscotch. The lyrics of the Simon song are on the first page of the script. The lyric floats into the play. A woman and man meet on a playground. They have not seen each other for a long while. The woman is playing hopscotch. Why is she there? Why hopscotch? Why is the man there? How are we informed about their past relationship? I love the questions. They go on forever.
I miss the questions. I miss examining a play line by line. I miss directing actors and together discovering the movements and impulses of a charater. Can you tell it's been awhile? Leave it to me to find a difficult profession nearly impossible to find a job in, that's as addictive an an oppiate.
Hopscotch could be a metaphor for it all, questions, actors, blocking and throwing an idea out into the air and hoping that it lands in the right place and then hopping on one foot to get there. Question is am I willing to "play" the game.

The wisdom of red breasted Robins.

In the German language all nouns are capiltized. The rules of english and german are all mushed together. Robin or robin? Doesn't seem to matter I guess. Hopefully nothing will be lost in the translation of my thoughts to the "internets". It's a broadcast of sorts, I always wanted to be a radio DJ. Unfortunately I was born 20 years to late.
I spent my break walking around a little park outside of where I work. The weather is glorious with out exageration. I was distracted by a robin, beak full of twigs and mud. He just stood still, surveying his suroundings. I stood surveying him. What was he carrying? Where was he going to go with a beak full? I wondering if he was deciding. I couldn't help comparing his mission to mine. Create a nest. Build a home. Make use of resources.
I have been writing my will and getting things in order so that my family can easily dispose of things. I seem to be jumping the gun. Perhaps if I lived in my life first, made a home, cooked a few more meals and planted a few more seeds I wouldn't be so worried about organizing my death.
The conclusion that I have built on a sandy and slipping foundation is that, build anyway. It's time to throw away 25 year old shoes in favor of a little breathing room. I am sure the robin hasn't held on to the debris in his nest for 25 years. Is he waiting for the return of 1985? Uh, No. He has kicked out old feathers, mud and leaves. He has made room for a mate. Regardless of whether he has one. He has emptied his nest and opened it to new possibilites. So shall I .