if picasso were here, i’d ask his opinion.

Lots on my mind tonight.  Lots of sussing out to do, to borrow a new phrase from a favorite friend.  Too much to wonder about, too much to try to define and catalog.

Ever been there? When what populates your life seems more surreal than ever, when you don’t know what to make of the three-headed Picasso of your social life, the splatter-painted experiment of your academic life, the crazy refrigerator-inspired installation that has suddenly taken shape in your world?

Nothing’s bad. In fact, it’s quite beautiful and lovely.  It’s just different.  It fits, actually seems to fit perfectly, but it just seems…oddly different.  I guess I might need some time to grow accustomed to it.

In the meantime, I’m rather terrible at interpreting how it all fits.

I used to be that girl who read too much into too little. You remember those days, don’t you? When anything became everything, when the most innocuous event grew into the life-defining moment.  I used to be her, all dreamy-eyed and quick to attach hope to most anything, often things that didn’t merit any hope at all.

I am not her anymore.  I think I’ve ridden the pendulum to quite the other end, actually–where it takes a wealth of evidence to convince me of anything, where I remain conspicuously and carefully cautious and unwilling to take a leap without clear proof that the leap will get me where I want to go.

I am not sure I like that either.

So, here I am…thinking a lot, letting myself hope a little,  and hopefully keeping my head.   Maybe I’ll find my middle ground and, in the process, be able to figure out what it all means.

Yeah…right.  Do we ever?

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