Ending to Beginning

My father is on the phone with me a day after I've turned 32 which is, incidentally, last Sunday.  He asks if I've got "a plan."  He elaborates: "a five year plan, or a ten year plan."  Of course, I don't.  There are things I know I could be doing but they are vaguaries, with all the certainty of the percussion in ambient music. I'm in Overland Park, Kansas and the heat is stiffling as I stand outside the arboretum we've visited. I can't give an answer but he chuckles because he knows I'll be thinking about it on the long drive north to Omaha.

Although I still don't have the next decade planned, one thing kept coming back on the drive back towards the Dakotas: that my ideas are sound and that I need to express them.  I need to blog. My path is not through a graduate school. My path is not with fanfare.  It's this moment as I sit in the basement quietly typing at my keyboard, writing to you.

So here is the beginning of a new blog and with it, a new voice.