Per the usual, I’m missing a different time period. Each generation has its own unique gifts, but none seem to connect with me fully. I have a fleeting recollection of a time where it all seemed so much simpler.
It seems I’m not the only one missing an era. A request comes in for John Lennon performing “Twist and Shout” on the Ed Sullivan Show. Last week’s Yoko needs her counterbalance. I’m here to oblige the sentimental.
While researching for the tarot project I’m nearly finished with, I stumbled upon some old stories of the Great Depression that seem written today. Regret and longing for a better living experience, we discovered hard work didn’t always equal hard cash. Being that my son has named his Labubu “The Great Depression”, I simply must have a doodle for the era.
The sound of a breezy trumpet and a bumping retro piano is crackling through my mind. I need to make an instrumental. Until then, I’ll doodle this homesick feeling.
I’m missing a real badass. Dewy eyed? No ma’am. This queen is pensive, yet stoic. A trip down memory lane leads to lamenting for ladies across the world. Wearing my dissent shirt, I’m asked if it’s Judge Judy. There’s a poignant poetry here, I’m just not sure it’s sweet.
Valentine’s Day has popped up. Like most annual celebrations, I’m indifferent, but it beats the alternative of not bagging another year for the life meter. Romance is playing in the forest. It’s more memorable than sweets or dying plant cuttings.
In retrospect, the grass isn’t any greener, but the thoughts provoked blooms. The simplest truth is that it’s all a corny look back; a glamorized idea. It’s a reminder that it’s all relative. It was always better to grow from the languishing than to remain exactly the same.