Its not happening this morning. Im not going to slam the snooze on the alarm 3 times before getting up and blindly stumbling to the bathroom in the dark. This morning I won’t take a leak with my eyes half open before staring at myself in the mirror for an absolutely unnecessary amount of time. Im not going to rub my face and wonder whether or not I should shave. I’m simply not going to shave. I’m not going to lumber into the shower to bathe in mediocre water pressure, and I will not stand in front of my closet and strain to remember just what the hell I wore yesterday so I dont repeat it two days in a row.

What will happen this morning is that I’ll roll out of bed well after the sun is up and shining through my bedroom window. Ill put on whatever I find laying in my floor- in this case its some ratty jeans, a long-john shirt and an army surplus jacket. I find my green knit cap, a musty old orange scarf and my chucks, and before leaving my apartment without breakfast I’ll think of the days before DC when this sort of morning was the routine, before the new routine of suits and ties and showers and commutes to an office became the norm. Once outside my place I find my bike covered in dew and chained to the stairs. A quick wipe with my sleeve dries off the seat and i loop the wet chain over my shoulder and around my torso. It will leave a kwet ring around my jacket. I roll up my jeans so they wont get caught in the chain.

And then I take a look up and down the street before saddling up and choosing a direction- I’m going left toward the Capital. Into the first burst of momentum I think about how I would normally be tunneling underground at this part of the morning, staring at nothing but the tiny type of a blackberry or the back of some other commuter’s head. The view of slick pavement passing under my tires is much preferred. I peddle hard into the cold air and thick traffic, careening between commuters, cutting off and lobbing obscenities at any who dare do the same to me. My arsenal of middle fingers is put to good use, rapidly firing and flinging. I’m moving, I’m going, and the no-place I am heading to is so much more important than the some-place of everyone else’s destination. I am my destination. I am free. I am alive.

And with this realization I turn homeward and on my way hork a snotty loog on some conservative congressman’s sedan. Once at home I feel better about myself before returning to the routine. I shower, I stare into the mirror, I shave. And then I tie the periwinkle noose around my neck. I’m pretty sure I didnt wear it yesterday.

Our good friend and long time marvelous supporter (and the girl i would totally be all over if she weren’t already married), Leah, has just published the finest piece of writing so far from her already delightful oeuvre. Its a beautiful piece about love and family and faith and memory and song. You should read it on her blog, POP QUIZ KID

sleep, little light
you’re calling me
fading from bright
i won’t push you

silver and cold
fruit has been bitten
green is the glow
but i am not full

marvelous joey as photographed by marvelous jared, central park, new york city, january 15.

From Friday, Jan 13, Washington:

I left the office tonight earlier than usual. I was happy that today I only had to work 10 hours instead of my usual 12 or 13, and I think the change in schedule prompted me to do something unusual on my way home. As I made my way through the streets and onto the bricklayed pathways that lead to the metro station I broke my stride, stopped, and looked up. Thats all. I just simply looked up and searched the sky for any sign of the stars. Unfortunately my search returned an empty ambient orange glow of city lights, a smothering manmade blanket of halogen and smog. Dissapointed, I start walking again- long strides, head down, satchel bouncing at my hip, shoes clopping on the brick. I make my descent into the metro tunnel, and it becomes a metaphor for the descent in my mood. I realize that the last time I simply looked up and admired the sky was weeks ago and half a world away, and that makes me sad. While I can joke about periwinkle ties and suits for everyday, the gravity of realizing that i have plodded home every night for weeks now with my head down is truly dissapointing. I might as well be sleeping through life, only waking up enough to plug through the day at the office.

The metro ride offers no consolation. It is monotony defined, a perpetual stop/start of changing faces that end up looking all the same. But headphones are in my ears and with them I have a way out. Sufjan is on and singing about a transfiguration, and by the time the metro drops me off and I make my ascent to the overground he is singing hallelujas to the One who has scattered a handful of stars across the sky. The orange haze has faded to a cold blue-grey, and I am looking up, finding enough of the tiny twinkling lights for you and me and a few of our friends to wish upon. Sufjan is still singing hallelujas and with all abandon to what the people around me may think I sing outloud. I cant hear myself because of the headphones, so I know I must be way off-pitch. But I dont care…the words are too appropriate to swallow with silence:

I was asleep.
He woke me up again to say
Halle Halle Halleluiah
Holy Holy is the sound

And I hope, I hope you are tired out.
And I know, I know there is joy endowed.
I was asleep,
And he woke me up again.
Halle Halle Halleluiah
Holy Holy is the sound

Hold on, hold on to your old ways
Or put off put off every old face.
And I know, I know you are changed out.
I hope, I hope you’re arranged out,
But I’m still asleep,
And you woke me up again.

thanks to arie, a loyal tmc blog reader, our mark is now resting high above Roermond St. in Oostberg, Netherlands. thanks, arie. all the rest of you now have your work cut out. send pictures.

If you were to ask me what color my tie was today I would lie to you and say blue. I am fully aware that the true color of my tie is periwinkle.

thats right, periwinkle. what have i done???

back home its christmas. but in oman christmas is for infidels, and for some reason i like it that way. i like being away from it all, my feet here in the…indian? pacific? arabian. yeah, arabian sea. over there, out past the sand dunes, is a hammock suspended from two trees in a large palm grove. i am going to lay in it and think about everything and think about nothing at all. and the dew will accumulate as the night grows shorter, and by the time i wake up in the morning there will be a dry silhouette of where i have laid. my sleep tonight will be peaceful, but intermittent. there are things to think about. there is nothing to think about. and in between i will look up and recognize the stars and it will all feel like one long dream and i will drift back home, back to my old hammock on my old porch. in my mind the sound of the crashing surf becomes a passing car on vernon street and a distant arabic conversation becomes the sound of students on the hill. and now, like back in lagrange, i will wish for her to be there with me. but she isnt. i dont even know who she is, but i long for her. and as i begin to discount this evening because i cant share it with a girl, orion bends down from the rigid posture he has kept in the sky for eons and look me in the eye and ask, “AM I not enough?” i hear the creator in his voice and i humbly reply, “yes, lord, you are enough.” and how could he not be? the warm air, the stars, the sea, sleeping in a hammock half a world away…its almost too much to comprehend, this theatre of creation and providence, and tonight the show was all for me.

not exactly a return to form, but i am trying to carve out some time to collage again…

…and yes, we have a new blog logo for a new year. what do you guys think? joey is the genius behind the new marvelous monster M. we’ve had buttons made, so you better like it. would you like a button? they are black and white, and look pretty much like the blog logo. they go great on any newsboy bag, jean jacket, and will turn your out-of-style trucker hat into the envy of all your friends. they even look good attached to the yuppie briefcase jared uses for his government job. just email us at info@themarvelouscollective.com and include your mailing address and we will be happy to send you your very own piece of free marvelous merchandise. we might even send two buttons and a surprise if we really like you.