The Bachelors & The Bowery Bums

St. Brigid's Cross

In the ever looming dark underbelly of holidays we never look forward to, there is another side that reflects celebration and choice in matter. One would think today the celebration of St. Valentinus, the patron saint of lovers, but I look to the Julian calendar and I read A portrait of the Artist as a Young Girl, and I celebrate St. Brigid of Kildare: 

"Brigid was the goddess of fire, whose manifestations were song, craftsmanship, and poetry, which the Irish considered the flame of knowledge."

I celebrate this in the Orthodox Christian tradition. I celebrate this because I can't bring myself to post The Saddest Mix Ever, a playlist compiled over years of heartache and song suggested by friends in pursuit of their own idea of ventriloquy and navigation of the heart's ventricles.

I celebrate this because I like celebrating.

What I think is that connection is endless. It is a chemical and physical and causal reaction of the emotive state wherein it is difficult to pin, and it is difficult to name. 

I think what is important is that love is not expectation or reason to find fault. It is an extension of warmth. It is light in February.

I did send a few valentines today, because it feels good to send valentines. I sent them to people I am fond of and who warm my heart. I hope this gesture helps to warm theirs.

For the bachelors and the bowery bums, and for those who choose affinity, celebration, and poetry (because that is what they have) on this feast day:

Tom Waits looks very sexy in this photo.