Lastnight we went to see the Prairie Home Companion broadcasted live in HD at the Pacific Place cinema. It was wicked cool. I think the Page and I were the youngest people there, aside from the little kids out past their bedtimes. It was definitely a salt-n-pepper gray, NPR canvas tote, Volvo driving, bring your own snacks kind of crowd.

I didn't realize how much I liked gospel music. The performances were electric. Elvis Costello was on, too. It was pretty much awesome. They're doing an encore broadcast next week so check it out if you missed it.

Also wanted to point you folks over to the new site I started that I'm very excited about: Journal Writing Saved My Life. I'm having a blast working on it. I'm hoping to help people get started writing because it's had an immeasurable impact on my life. Check it out if you're into that kind of thing. Or even if you're not. I need readers and comments or my ego will wither and die.

Also redesigned Scooter Lust, so check that out if you're prone to two wheeled action. I just upgraded to WordPress and it's a million times better than Movable Type.

Speaking of upgrading, I also will be moving Wishville. That's the whole "on leaving" subject at the top of the post.

I'm retiring this site and redesigning my homebase site, Dreamingfish. I'm changing my professional focus from design to creative content, so I'm going to start blogging there while I set up my writing portfolio and such. I'm streamlining. I'm simplifying. It feels wonderful.

Hope you'll join me.

I had an appointment downtown the other day. It's on the very top floor of one of the skyscrapers towering above the city, one of the sleek and mirrored ones that reflect blue sky and white puffy clouds on clear days. The top floor has its own elevator; you have to take the regular elevator up to the 33rd floor and then get on a separate elevator which whisks you upwards 12 feet to the penthouse above.

As I exited the elevator at the top, I passed an office with enormous glass doors. I could see right through the office and out the floor-to-ceiling windows cradling this executive's suite. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, and did a physical double-take when I realized the shaft of white I saw was the Space Needle. I backed up three steps and stood there, mouth agape.

The enormous windows framed the Space Needle perfectly and the office was the same height, so level with the observation deck. It was unreal. It seriously looked like a fake picture.

There was the guy with his desk abutting the window, talking on the phone. On a crystal clear day, sun streaming in onto the floor of his office, the Space Needle sparkling like some real estate ad in Architectural Digest.

And I wondered - when this guy walked into that office on the day he was hired, did he say, "Okay. NOW I've arrived"? Was that a watermark morning for him? Such a lush and tangible proof of accomplishment?

I keep wondering what my moment will be. If I'll have one of those moments. If it will come slowly, if it will sneak up on me while I'm busy doing dishes or writing another rough draft.

Or if I, too, will be handed the keys to something so undeniably full and bright. Unlocking the door to some proverbial room to discover the Space Needle wrapped up just for me.