"I come from.."

      Anna Maria wrote to me on Wednesday and said that she wanted to write from the prompt “I come from…”
I wanted to work from it too. It’s the kind of phrase you can go just about anywhere with as many times are you want. It seems a lot like jotting down “I remember…” and just seeing what pops into your mind:

      I remember…. sitting by the curve outside Coolidge Middle School with Taj who had just been suspended again.”--Who knew that was in my head?

      “I remember… going to the swings down in Memorial park one morning in the dark to watch the sunrise…”

       It’s limitless really, once you reach certain age—I’m guessing its five or six—you don’t really run out of memories.

       So I started writing in the coffee shop this morning (and when I say morning I mean around 12:30 this afternoon) and all kinds of thoughts poured out. I remembered youth group and high school and my house when I was five or six and old friends and Laurel Hill Cemetery which grew up across from (“quiet neighbors” my dad likes to say) and I figured I’d eventually sift it all down into something profound and resonant and perhaps just a bit abstract, cause I like that sort of song. Then I got home to my guitar and didn’t really have anything solid planned out yet. And what popped out but the first line of this song. The whole thing was too hard to resist.