* not with ink

Last night I was strong-armed* into watching an episode of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. I can't find a video to embed, so you are going to have to click this link to watch it . Is that too much to ask? I know clicking links is really pass é , but I would like to discuss at least the first segment. Because it blew my mind a little. (I also recommend watching the Anne Hathaway interview: the most non-interview interview I think I've ever seen. They mostly discuss Scrabble, which I love. It is a great nerdly pursuit.) Warning: Contains strong language. And strong opinions regarding US economics. *I have very weak arms. And I really wanted to watch the show, so it wasn't much of a fight. In fact, there was no actual fight. We just watched it, laughed, and discussed.

I have a dream. A few weeks ago, I sat on a park bench as storm clouds rolled in. I was reading a Pulitzer Prize winning collection of short stories. And it was making me angry. They were well written, don't get me wrong. But they were depressing . Hopeless, even. And that got me to thinking...again. With all the reflecting and thinking and praying and major life transitions over the last several months, I've become more convinced of my love for the arts and the potential they have to be so much more than they often are. I want to be a part of that. Not just on the sidelines, cheering people on (although that is important), but right in there, creating art that speaks of life in all its glory: pain, mistakes, hurt, redemption, hope, beauty... I have ideas about how to get there, but there are no guarantees. And although I am in a "risk-taking" stage of life, I have a feeling it would take an army of cheerleaders to get me moving much faster. Which is why I was so ex...