I'm always looking out. Now, I look down at the vestiges of my 45th year and up into my “late forties.” Yes, a baby to some and a crone to others. Either way, I'm still on fire to create. This is why, forget the laundry, get a sitter, and create for joy and discovery's sake. My husband and I took a random Saturday afternoon to recreate Mr. Jones by the Counting Crows. It reminds me of my 16th year, before any clue of "humaning hard;” a phrase I feel everyday now. Not necessarily in a good way. I find when you slow a tune town, the words take on a whole new weight. Like life. It's not going to slow any time soon... here's one attempt to slow it. And the unbearable lightness of being? I'm trying not to bear it - I'd rather revel.