New Squeaky Doors.
The fist thing I notice about a new place to live is the light. Is it florescent and oppressive? Is it unrevealing? Or, by chance, in the intersection of space and time does the light shine into the place in such a way that it makes the vision for the days ahead clear, electric, or just a bit breathtaking? I like the sounds too. I want to know the creaks in the floor boards. I want to know the voice of the old squeaky wood doors.
Sometimes it takes a while to get to know if you’ve moved into a place you’ll want to stay…..
I stumbled on to tumblr tonight while trying to figure out what boxee is and if it would be useful to me. It probably won’t be. Not yet anyway. This certainly will be.
I have all but abandoned my Myspace Blog, I don’t like blogger, and facebook doesn’t have anything worth even trying to use as a blog. So I am moving here.
I have a lot to say. I haven’t had a place to say it. I have had the time to if I wanted to. I’m trying though. I’m trying to make that time. There are boxes to unpack, and things to hang on the walls. It needs work. It’s got potential. Yeah. I’m moving in.
