Effortless & Difficult.

I'm sitting here, up very late; Sam was laying on the floor near the sofa and fell asleep. I wouldn't still be awake except I'm trying to rescue some damaged CDs for Sam before he leaves very early in the morning. And as you might have guessed, that's what this entry is all about.

I'm sure that tomorrow, or the next day or the next, I'll write about the evening spent with bunches of folks at the Metro, with Sam, but in the chilly quiet of my house right now, with the warmth of listening to the easy breathing of his sleep, I want the whole world to change just so we can stay the same, just like this. Just like this weekend. Is that too much to ask?

In this moment, I have finally discovered something about San Francisco that I do not like: it's not near enough to Tucson. That's an odd thing to say, and I'm sure that no one, including Sam, wishes it, but I do. Because then I wouldn't have nights like this. Because then I wouldn't have mornings like I'm about to have in 5 or 6 hours from now. Because then my sense of home would be constant.

I see the familiar look in my eyes in the pictures that Sam takes of me. I notice something I haven't seen there in a long time. That's the sense of home I'm talking about. Sam says he takes the best pictures of me, but really, I'm just looking at him and that's what he's seeing. As in the new picture of me to the left (linked here as well, just to keep this entry complete). I'm squinting, yes, but in my own mind, I'm more me in that picture than I have seen in a very long time. Sam doesn't take the best pictures of me, he makes them.

The Being-With is effortless. The Being-Apart, well...geography is hateful.