The week started out uncomfortably warm, with temperatures well into the nineties, but the thermometer has dropped enough so that once again, a jacket is required at night. I've been watching episodes of Dexter at camp while the kids are sleeping, and tonight I plan on watching the last couple of episodes of season 4. After each episode, I take a palate-cleansing walk through camp, watching the stars wheel through the blackness and the fog drift in. It's a peaceful job, as long as nobody is throwing up or bleeding. There have been a lot of bloody noses this week, probably because of the lack of humidity. Kids often seem so fragile, ill-equipped for anything approaching "roughing it".
As I walk around in the dark, I think. This week, I've been thinking about passion, and about how I feel the need to develop some new creative passions, or perhaps revisit dormant ones. I feel like a lot of my creativity has been left by the wayside over the years, although I guess blogging sort of counts as creative, even if it is more like a chronicle of my experiences most of the time. For the time being, I'll take what I can get, I guess. I'm looking for some new muse or inspiration though, perhaps because I just finished reading a novel about a muse of sorts - Christopher Moore's Sacre Bleu. Of course, with this particular muse, pain and loss is inextricably linked to inspiration. I'm not a big fan of pain and loss, even though a lot of great art and music is born from it. Does that make me some sort of psychic vulture, benefiting as I do from the pain and loss of others? Ha.
Currently listening to: Empty Vessel Music "The Burial",
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