It’s day one of the three weeks I’ll spend in Charleston, South Carolina.
For the past 10 days, I’ve been in my hometown of Dallas doing everything possible to wedge open opportunities for employment.
For the past 10 months, I’ve been completing my final days as a full-time student earning a master’s degree in arts journalism. As our capstone project we work for the Post & Courier here in Chucktown and cover Spoleto USA, the largest arts festival in the US ( I know this because my biggest project at American Theatre magazine was researching festivals.)
I’m currently at a bar called Leaf Cafe and Bar with these wonderful fellow students of mine, drafting stories, drinking beer, complaining and currently relishing in the recent addition of Fleet Foxes to the bar’s playlist.
I can’t help but believe in God or spiritual or positive forces -whatever you will – when I look at my life.
On the two planes from Dallas to Charleston, I sat next to a 12-year-old girl flying by herself for the first time, and then an older couple who eyed me as the clean, petite girl with a small purse and a book. Both seemed equally necessary for sustaining my good spirits. The first because I could reassure her everything would be alright and the second because the woman was tired of chatting with her “dirty old husband.”
I’m rambling, but it’s these two godforsaken Allagash Whites and the soft lights in this bar.
And also Local Natives “Airplanes” just came on.
Read my latest, a review of “God of Carnage” at the Dallas Theater Center, here.
What a pleasure to find someone who thinks thorguh the issues