I'm in between Friday errands, a mop down of the kitchen floor and a trip out to Santa Monica for music, literature and a peak at the sun setting behind the Pacific Ocean. It's quite a spectacle. The sun's setting, I mean. It often rips open the sky with orange and guavas and burnt bloods and purple Jimi Hendrix hazes. I often wonder if it's sad to go and having some galactic temper tantrum, or if it's just showing off, reminding us all how gracious we should be for its unconditional solar love.

I wanted to say this today: the sky is our measure for how large and wide we can live our lives. How unlimited and profound and colorful and thunderous our lives can be. And as long as there is a sky, there is life, waiting, arms open wide with a sun bulldozing significance all over the heavens.

I guess I'm simply saying: Take the sun's lead. Live. OH...and there's ALWAYS a tomorrow.

Until next time,

Keith