ramblings from an airplane

wrote this last week while preparing to land in Minneapolis in a plane, on my way to Wisconsin...

Out my window.  Bright.  Almost blinding, the reflection from the snow-covered ground, far far below.  How is it that land came to be parceled out in such neat, square-shaped  packages?  I mean, I know how, really, it just seems odd to have taken so much of the country and divided it up.  The natives would have never thought of land so geometrically.

The plane is banking hard left, now.  Some 50 miles from Minneapolis, I believe.  The pilot announced that we may have to circle above for a bit due to heavy air traffic.  I suppose I should be able to see my home state, my final destination (Wisconsin) while circling above the Twin Cities.  In a few hours I will touch down in Milwaukee.  Not exactly the "pearl of the midwest", but no Toledo, either.  Tomorrow: Madison.

Resurrecting This Blog - Writing Style

This blog is once again open for business. It is on of my 2011 resolutions to become more disciplined at writing (music specifically, but in all facets as well). Yes, some travel stuff will still get posted as it happens, but for now, I'm going to use this to keep myself honest and writing. Mostly, you will get to read my exercises, thoughts, and rambles, rather than complete works.

Enjoy!

my apartment -

hardwood floors, pretty, but I wish my desk chair wouldn't have scuffed and scratched that section. the futon, tiny and uncomfortable (so my brother claims), it was, nonetheless, cheap. on it sit a bunched-up pair of blue jeans that I just removed before bedtime, my cell-phone charger (which my girlfriend annoyingly :) likes to leave plugged in when she is here), some folded-up comfy blankets, and a small pillow. My guitar sits upright in its case, next to the futon. Earlier today, apartment smelled of sour milk after Heidi poured it down the drain, but either my nose has gotten used to it, or the combination of febreze and disinfectant spray which I hit the sink with actually worked. If the heat were on at this moment, I would hear the steam-like chugging from the pipe in the bathroom, which is often as loud as a high-pressure stream of water, even with the door shut. The windows have a small amount of moisture in the corners, which I am sure is from the humidifier (Denver is very dry). I sit cross-legged on my bed (in its cave), back hunched over this notebook. My small, studio apartment.