this limbo isn't half bad

We're in limbo in Seattle for about ten days. Washington still feels like "home" to me, which I think is very strange. I have spent at least a third of my life (off and on) in the midwest; I counted the years and figured this out today. I am suspicious that I have not been "allowing" the midwest to feel like home as much as it should. Maybe I don't have control over allowing a place to feel like home or not, but I think that I might have some say in it. I am sorry midwest. I should be better to you. I promise to do better.

A week from now we'll be in the air, heading to Beijing. Today, my mom took us down to the market to walk around. We walked from the market to the Olympic Sculpture Park that SAM opened up since I was last here. I like it. I tried to take some pictures of things that looked interesting to me on our walk.

We walked by one of the buildings I did demolition work on when I was 22 or 23. It is across the street from the Seattle Art Institute. I mention this because I workshopped a poem that had a scene in it that described the exact intersection we walked across. I had a lot of strange feelings walking around Seattle. I haven't been back here for about three years. I have some strong memories of walking through the market when I was a little kid. I also have some strong memories of wandering around Seattle in my early twenties trying to figure out what the hell was going on in my life. Same market. Same smells. Same feelings.

I also made a movie of a violinist at the market. I like the look on Erin's face at the end of the movie. She tolerates me. I am lucky that she tolerates me. I do a lot of silly things. I also made a movie of this floating thing. I'm not sure what it is. It might be a net. Erin says it is a bumper that goes between ships, or maybe between a ship and the dock. I'm wondering how she knows this. Maybe she had a secret life as a sailor that I know nothing about.