why do i do it??
and why do i seem to recall asking myself these same questions at this time every year???
i write to you, my dears, from the public library in wendover, nevada. just across the state line from wendover, utah. (think kansas city only not.)
there's just a few casinos, , pawn shops, fast food restaurants, and (thank goddess!) an auto mechanic here. as soon as one of the employees finishes attending a funeral in salt lake city, she'll pick up the water pump for my truck and bring it back here. putting me back on the highway by midnight with 6ish hours to reno where members of my black rock family await. *sigh*
something about this gathering really puts you to the test. and each time i doubt that it's worth all the effort and money that it takes to pull it off. but somehow by the end of next week i'll be laughing at my doubts yet again. i know i will.
my housemate/sister/momma hush predicted a push of thirty faeries coming from the mountain.
yet i travel solo. (i'm not surprised in the slightest.) after all, texxxas is a lone star state.
i release the frustration, the attachment to any sort of timeline, the fears around finances... all of it.
making room for inspiration, celebration, inebriation, fornication, and more.
until after all that...