tapes

Do you mind if I post these things? These little occurrences that happen? Mostly, I need them for me. Anyway -

So I am working on a project. It has come to the stage where I need to produce a demo recording, and I've been letting fear and procrastination masquerade as lack-of-technology to produce said demo.  If I tell myself I'll figure out how to get my computer to record, this will never happen. I know I have a tape recorder somewhere. I found the external mic easily. Checked a few places already where the recorder is likely to be - no.

But this morning, walking with boris, I had a sudden flash, a memory of your voice, of something, and I realized right where the recorder is. In the box of your things from the last days. Just where I left it after recording your last voicemail to me, frantically trying to save your voice before it was erased by the cell phone system.

At home, I open the box. Carefully. There is your handwriting. A list you made that very morning in July. I see the things I saved. And right on top, the tape recorder. And a brand new blank tape. I would never have found it in my ordinary search. Whether this was my mind doing a stellar job of memory retrieval, or it was you, or something else - I am humbled, and I know I am helped.

Love is beside you, everywhere.



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