Now and Then

There are certain periods of life--stretches between arbitrarily designated periods of Now and Then--that simply defy description. At least, they defy description by writers of my talent. I've never been more than an occasional diarist; the day-to-day chronicling of my life hasn't ever captured my own interest, so I fail to see how it might capture yours.

In brief summation, there has been: the collapse of commercial enterprises, chest pains, transient ischemic events, the loss of autonomy, and new, large, colorful tattoos, only the first and last of which affect me directly.

So it's been life: fast, and tumultuous, doing what life does, which is to produce unfolding and ever-increasing fractal patterns of itself, like a youthful fern uncoiling.

I'm among the young fern shoots now, which smell deeply green and have a peculiar, fresh-pollen tang to them. I'll be back, soon. With tales to tell.