a crisp peace

On the eve of the inauguration of Barack Obama, the ghost-like presence of my need to write lingered in my space. For three days I partied until 4:00 am; there was a Bush effigy, visiting with Ohio 2004 folks, early morning meals and a large concert on the mall. DC had briefly morphed from a culture of professionals tackling structural unpleasantries to well, just a big party. But on Martin Luther King Day, the eve of the inauguration, in the air circulated quietness. An absence of anxiety. A blatant peace. It seemed as if the laborious commitments that led this movement to this moment had gone on Sabbath. It was lovely.