Girl, Interrupted

I found a piano on the sidewalk in Denver, on a cold winter night. It was perched over some greasy spots in the pavement and was surrounded by scatters of slushy leftovers from a winter afternoon. It was shielded only by a tattered awning that hovered partially over it, and was painted a piercing blue so brilliant you could not help but notice. Someone had painted thick, gnarly branches across it, which were adorned with hearty drops of white paint to serve as a snowy blanket. The keys were yellow, with patches of their protective layer chipping to reveal the bony under layer of the worn-out keys. Regardless of the cool, gray buildings around which it resided, the piano stood proudly, happily, waiting for someone to stop, sit, and play.

I hope this blog finds you as this piano found me, hope in what might be a dreary winter, an unexpected surprise that intrigues as much as it invites. My goal was to share with you the journey of a new home, but I may find myself also sharing with you my deepest thoughts. I might do so consistently, or just sporadically. For now, I invite you to stop, sit, and read.