Man, I just came back from a phenomenal house concert; JD Edwards and his charming, and equally talented girlfriend, Jessie Havey (formerly of the Duhks). My head is buzzing with exhaustion and euphoria and I really, truly should be sleeping but I'm caught up in the moment of this month and digging it. March is a great month, so far, and I'm less than a week down the road.
I decided not too long ago, the day after the month of February ended actually, that I from here on in declare that February is obsolete in my life. I've had it with that miserable excuse of a month. In my world, January will now be extended an extra 15 days, running to day 46. Then it will kick in to March, starting at negative 15. Screw February. It's the worse month ever on record of any month there is. It's miserably cold but starting to get muddy, so you never know whether you should wear rubber boots or can get away with sneakers. My dog's fur gets caked with dirt and ice after a walk and then slowly melts mud blobs all over the house, no matter how hard I try to keep her confined until I can give her a good rubdown with yet another good towel. By February, I'm tired of snow, and now I have to deal with mud and snow? No thanks.
And by mid-February I am a moody, brooding soul, at the pinnacle of artistic tension and frustration. It comes with months of being holed up inside, reading, conversing, focusing on my art and writing, being introspective and pensive. It takes its toll after a while. I feel I can't possible exploit one more thought out of my squeeze-dried brain. February makes me mentally tired. Bleck.
But as soon as the last second of February 28th ticked itself into March 1st, the moon blasted itself full and my mind went completely blank. Instant transformation occurred, thoughts were gone and my body completely inundated my grey matter. I have not had a silly thought in my head for a week and it's been fantastic. I think my knuckles have been bleeding from dragging on the ground and I haven't minded, just stocked up on band-aids. Because March is about desire; carnal, guttural, spring desire. And there must be some logical reason for what seems like an instantaneous switch from thought to desire that can be linked right back to our old caveman days (Man, those cavemen have had to take the blame for everything, eh?) I figure it's because the natural mood drug, Vitamin D, AKA sunshine, is absorbing into the bones and resurrecting the body. Most cavebabies were probably born around December. I wonder if the statistics are connected to this banal theory void of any research whatsoever. My brain's hurting from thinking this much. Did I mention that I haven't thought in a week?
And I don't mean to sound like suddenly we become a bunch of heavy breathing sexual heathens devoid of any intellectual capabilities in March but you can't deny this sense of "something's in the air"....people have more pep in their walk, doors are being opened for strangers at the post office, people are wearing brighter clothing, people are wearing less clothing and feeling the air on their exposed skin, windows are rolled down, you can hear the bass music from the truck that drives by making everyone undulate to the rhythm until they get to their desired locations, more eye contact is being made, smiles are being exchanged....collectively, we seem to be erasing the crappity crap (Thanks Jen, for sharing that quote with me) of the winter. That kinda feeling goes way beyond the mind. It seeps deep down into the blood where it pulses. And by the way, there's nothing wrong with being a bunch of heavy breathing sexual heathens devoid of any intellectual capabilities every once in a while.
So I suggest that if you're still stuck in the cavernous hell hole of February still, that you take the time to peel off some layers. Heck, go outside and look up at the night sky and take a deep, deep breath and just smell March and soon enough, you're going to feel it too.
"It hurts to see you leave without the taste of your last touch" JD Edwards "The Rose"
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