This given morning was a call to fluff, you know, as opposed to glory.
...an hour later..
I decided to go off in search of "fluff", something pretty to show you, something that would show you how hip, how clever, how relevant I am, how much glory I deserve (*squeak. damn) but stopped on the way to check a blog I frequent because I so often leave it with An Attitude Adjustment.
I really should say recheck it because earlier in the morning, I'd left a hip, clever, relevant comment and wanted to see if I'd gotten my much deserved glory. (*really really bad word, but my mother reads this so I won't type it, but REALLY bad word). Instead, I got a reminder, a mule kick to the head, if you will. It was a good kick, but a kick is a kick.
I almost don't think I can do this. I want to be light, and frivolous and all the things I think are the outward signs of bliss. They're not. I may "think" those things equate to bliss, but I believe they are all hat and no cattle, to borrow an expression from my home state. February 7th, I'm going to be joining the Maladjusted Book Club in a Symposium on an issue that's so much bigger than it sounds, and it sounds huge:
If you don't already know about it, and you never ever click on another link from this blog, this is the money click because you are the most amazing thing I've ever seen. And, because I can't resist a little philosophical flailing, you could (should) put any noun you use to define yourself in place of the word Body.
All images, Will Cotton. I might be in love.