Good fortune can be more challenging than hardship.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t live in such a fabulous city. On any given day, there is not only some kind of art event going on, but usually a painful choice between events. When I was a child I never wanted to go to bed because I was afraid to miss something. I haven’t gotten any better as an adult. At Iceland Writers Retreat I overdid it so much that I completely lost my voice and had to communicate by handwritten notes. And yet I found myself at Showbox SoDo on Monday night, only two days after covering the sixth anniversary of Seattle Living Room Shows for Three Imaginary Girls, and still medicated for a cold that I’ve had for roughly six weeks. But… Mastodon! And Gojira!
