Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

From time to time I make myself little artsy posters to hang next to the mirror in my bedroom. They range from positive go-get-'em messages to deep insights.

The one I created yesterday states:

DO NOT

YIELD

your beauty to those

who do not commit to

preserving it.

For more visual impact, the word yield is actually a traffic yield sign - bright red for impact. My little project kicked off an art session with Mr. Man. We spent a few hours making traffic signs. Wrong way. Railroad crossing. No parking. Traffic light ahead. No U-Turn. Turns out traffic road signs are elegant, simple symbols useful for interpreting one's life.

Laundry Duty

Pumpkin has developed a recent love affair with our washer. It's a nice washer, I'll give him that. It's a front loader with a concave glass window - into which he sticks his head to watch the items tumble around. Sometimes he sits in front of it and watches it, but at some point he'll stand up on his hind legs and push his face right up against the glass. He runs to the machine as soon as I start to load it. It's one of his super cute moments.

Birthday Love

I am now the proud owner of these kick-ass vegan boots, thanks to love from two great Michigan friends.

My wife and son surprised me with a new iPod shuffle, a cute green one. I had a beautiful, warm, sunny birthday last weekend and was quite spoiled by a fun day out on the town. We went to Paradox, an amazing cafe with vegan food to drool over. That was followed up by a Stumptown soy mocha. Stumptown is the coffee lover's reason to move to Portland. It was a joy turning a year older.

spring has sprung!

The daffodils and crocus are in full bloom. There are bushes and trees flowering. We picked up this bloom to give to my wife.



The forecast calls for snow on Monday.

Happy Velotines Day

Here's one of the many reasons why I live in Portland.

I missed the morning commute, but I'm heading in to the office velo-style after spending the first shift at home with a sick Mr. Man. So far this morning in his fevered state he:

• lifted his legs up in the air while we were snuggling and said, "You know why this is all puffy?" Because it's your scrotum, I said. "Yes," he said. "It's a big blue whale." (He was wearing blue boxers.)


• he told me I couldn't go to work and I should just call in a sick day. I said I had work to do. He asked why other people couldn't do it. He said, "make your boss do it. He doesn't work as much as you. He just gets money."


• won a game of Contest (a card game) that lasted an hour.

My wife is up for an interesting second shift.

Indecent

Yes, that would be our cat, lying on his back, arms and legs spread to the world. Are all cats this indecent?

Push

Yesterday I woke up numb. I felt swallowed whole and acutely aware of the immensity of my surroundings. From my distant and small place, little touched me. None of the debris from my day made an impact or changed my perceptions.

At 9pm I headed out for a rainy evening bike ride. I loaded the iPod with ample Melissa Ferrick. Who else, really, to reach me with intensity. The rain splattered my face and my eyes watered from the effort of blinking back the raindrops. The ride downtown helped me unwind. As I circled back across the river I started to find my release. On the Springwater Corridor I rode faster and harder. I sensed the kinetic energy trapped inside that needed to be pushed out. Unsure of its source or purpose, I simply released it. The ride was a blur, the experience of steadfastly moving forward like a trance. My eyes were steadily fixed five feet ahead of me and my legs pumped, pushing the energy out.

I wonder why numbness settled in, yet what I know is important is that I pushed it back out. I still sense something inside fueling my impatience, ennui and discontent. More rides and rock concerts are likely in the coming days.