A week has passed since I moved downtown to the city. Currently I am still in a state of flux - halfway between where I was and where I want to be. Still not into the new place yet and living out of a hotel room doesn't give one the most complete sense of grounding. But, at the same time I could not be more confident in my decision that this is the right place and time for me. That there's a reason this is where I am and a reason I've met the the people I have recently met. There's an energy that pulsates off the sidewalk and gives me an energy I haven't felt in years; that there's a purpose here.
I know that the next stages for the website are still in a state of (what seems like) perpetual hiatus. There's a "Voices" initiative that we'll hopefully be able to announce shortly. There's an entire redesign and fundamental re-thinking of how AP.net works and operates that I am hoping we can launch by the end of the year. My head is pounding with more ideas and creativity than I've felt since I was an angry teenager and had this crazy idea to see what would happen if I wrote about music on this new-fangled interweb.
Heh, and because I'm just writing what comes out as I sit in a booth at Blue Moon -- I've got this feeling that who I was doesn't have to be who I am ... but I am re-finding security in my skin daily. I know who I am. Love it, hate it, love me, hate me ... I'm still just the boy with a keyboard and headphones. There's something new bubbling just below the surface, something I haven't felt before, something that tells me the next stage of life is going to be even better than the last. Something that tells me no matter what I can always hit play and the rest of the world can fade to black and white. There's comfort in the melody.