Three years ago today, on February 28, 2012, I joined Cowbird. The site was new-ish then. I had a lull in some contracted work I was doing and I was looking for somewhere to use my photography and my art. To take a break from being in the long word tunnel. I read a short piece in the New York Times Business section, an interview with Jonathan Harris. Cowbird sounded tasty. I applied to join without ever seeing Cowbird or knowing anyone on it. As soon as I was accepted I posted my first story.
I like taking leaps into places where I know nothing, where I am fingertips in the dark, yet committed to the enterprise. Cowbird was an instant fit. I gave myself a challenge: to use only photos or visual art I myself created, along with my stories. So far, I have. Great fun.
There's been lots left out, lots yet to emerge. I like the slow steady pace of getting to know someone, even if that someone is--nutty, I know,--myself.
Cowbird is an open secret, a place to play, to experiment away from the schemes and clots we all move through, daily. Cowbird has been, has become, connective tissue in my life. There've been trolls, sneaks, sure, but much more there have been poets, memoirists, adventurers, masterly photographers, soul sisters and soul brothers, at this Cowbird Cafe.
I have put myself in your hands, my friends.
We have each put ourselves into the safekeeping of each other. Singing, rhyming, lyric, lilting into liftoff. Snits, tiffs, hey we're family, the return, prodigal, returners, revenant, petite revelations.
As I enter Year Four with all of you, let me say: in ways I know and in ways I am not at all aware of yet, for the last three years, Cowbird has saved me. Thank you. Moochirp.
(Photo by Susan, February 2014)