Two days pass. They are like one day. They are like five days. Actually, it has been roughly 2.5 days... but who is counting? Could it be quantified, the convention, if I took the time to quantify it in writing?
The qualities of the convention are something special to absorb in-person, though I tried to scrawl some of them into a disintegrating little notebook discarded by a denomination that decided to change logos. I've 'lived' with the Methodists for long enough that I've resigned myself to brand grave-yards, anyway, and I accepted the gift and started playing amateur reporter during the musical performance and keynote speech yesterday. The speaker was eloquent, pointed, and probably operating on a higher level even without his own consent. It is a funny counter-intuitive thing, riding on the Spirit of God. I feel like I do it so seldom, but that is because its a Spirit found in the seat of one's pants when they dive awkwardly into the air and somehow land on all feet. I suppose the musicians were familiar with the feeling-- the idea of 'shape note singing' seemed to me to be an unnecessary leap when we have such wonderful sheet-music to tell us exactly where to go and be safe when we sing. Of course... that's not always the point...
So, the details aren't always what the qualitative is about. There was a workshop on workshops and I got some great advice.
As predicted, though, I can't let two days go by and expect to log them both. So, I get backed-up... trying to live and write both.
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