After the frivolity of setting up the art show today, I am much less nervous. Everyone had an excited banter and the work looks good together. So I think everything will be just fine and I am still feeling good underneath all the external stress. I just have to trust that things are all going to be ok.

As I drove to setup the show in the city I generally regard with a veiled contempt, I saw the old K building that I used to watch as I fell asleep in my grandmother's apartment. It used to seem menacing with red lights that glowed like eyes. It's tower looked like a tin man hat giving its sinister a slightly whimsical spin. A devil that was blundering and loveable, as if it were not truly bad. I would stare at it, playing with the lights and features in my mind as I drifted off into dreams. I can still see the window frame around it and the glow of the city lights below. I can still hear my grandmother crinkling the pages of the book she was reading or the low hum of voices on the television. As I lay there I would imaging it breaking off of its foundations and walking over to my window. I wondered at what it would say, how it would bend and tip its tin man hat to me. Even all of my coldest hours within that city's sphere cannot erase such good memories, so today and tomorrow I will be called home at last. And I will call it home.