I wanted to post something...so here's a snapshot of right this second.
I'm sitting in the cafe carriage of an Amtrak train heading towards Boston, Massachusetts. It's about twenty to six, and it's dark outside. I'm set up with a laptop and phone and mouse and water bottle in a corner, with headphones on and a colleague on the other side of the table. It's getting a little cold in here, but the orange and white lights of stray roads and houses out in the darkness are wheeling and flowing past one another to the sound of Mr. Scruff's 'Jazz Potato' and the Cinematic Orchestra's 'Flite' and it's good train music.
I'm working, on and off at least. After working on the project for almost 7 years (on and off at least) I'm attending the public opening of the new Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum extension. My suit is in my bag and I'm excited, although the bag is in a luggage rack at the other end of the carriage behind me and I am worried someone has walked off with it. I will probably give in to the anxiety and check on it soon.
While I haven't missed the concern over blogging everything in my life, it's apparent when there are gaps on flickr or here that where there was an account or could have been an account of my life (autoblography, hello) there isn't one. And while I may not feel the urge to share as much as I used to, through age, apathy, prudence or all three, that record is something I love having. So whatever it is, however infrequent or pointless, I'm just going to keep doing this. Snapshots, or small moments, tiny aides-memoire, small links to what is a much more personal whole, anchored fragments in the greater stream of time slewing past in the real world like landscape past a cafe car window.