I remember the day John Ritter died – September 11, 2003. It threw me for a loop. Then, the very next day, Johnny Cash died. I had what one might refer to as a meltdown.
It’s funny how certain things can touch us, like John Ritter’s sensitivity in his role as Vaughn in Slingblade, or like Johnny Cash’s cover of I Won’t Back Down. On a grand scale, I suppose that is how “art” impacts us, and sometimes we don’t even realize it. On a smaller scale, we are surrounded by potentially moving experiences every single day, if we just choose to notice. This morning on the bus a woman complimented my polka dot dress and I damn near started crying.
I think I need to wear polka dots more often (don’t we all?), and this weekend I’m going to start a project that means something to me. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something as I raise a glass to toast the woman on the bus.