Hello! Come on in!
Would you like
a beer?
A little wine?
.
Strangers, food,
connection
like I’ve never experienced before
.
Accordion, guitar, lederhosen.
It’s loud but it’s just
FUN GODAMMIT
.
A little joke from a
human
to a human, human, human, human
we are all humans?
.
Why am I so
happy
in a strange place?
.
I feel…light.
Like I’ve escaped prison
and then arrived at a party.
I’ve never seen an Eastern Bluebird in real life but they make me feel something.
They remind me of the colour palettes that I wish I could live in.
If life were really in that old technicolor, and I ruled the world, there would be a lot of bluebirds.
Bluebirds also remind me of Alice in Wonderland (1951) when Alice lies down in a field of daisies.
Then I remember that I love daisies, and rich green grass.
The daisies and green grass remind me off the linoleum flooring my Great-Grandma Birdie had in one of her guest bedrooms. It was a vibrant green with little white fences and barns.
I slept in that room when we stayed at her house.
To my little self I thought that the blanket on the bed was the most beautiful blanket I’d ever seen.
It was all pink. The happiest, cotton candy pink.
When the light came streaming through the bedroom window in the morning I could have woken up in heaven and not noticed.
I reckon bluebirds, colours, daisy chains, sweet Grandmas, and pretty mornings make me happy because they slow me down a bit.
Slow.
Bright.
Quiet.
Happy.
So happy.
.
.
.
And then I think of little Eastern Bluebirds.
The Culture of Being 