2.29.12.

Lovers,

2. 29.12.

The day that I finished our third, possibly fourth, (I really can't remember) and final revision of The Musical.

I'm not sure I ever told any of you the story of how Raelyn and I came to write a musical, and I don't intend to tell you the story now, either.

It is not the time for stories.

The time now is for celebration.

We celebrate because our three-year-old, all-consuming project has finally been finished.

It's over.

By the end of this month, it will be copyrighted.

Hopefully, soon, the rights will be acquired to the songs we've used, (The songs are not original. I can't tell you who they belong to just yet, but they're not ours.)

And if all goes according to dream, to chance, to divine gifting and ability, it'll be onstage within the next 2-4 years.

I've been working around the clock for the past 5 days to push through and get it completely revised, pulling several almost-all-nighters and inhaling countless cups of coffee, dodging classtimes, mealtimes and social engagements to click away furiously on my laptop, and it's all come to fruition, now.

It's overwhelming, and this blog post is not doing my excitement, fear, sadness, joy, disbelief, flabbergastion (it is a word, now, lovers) or discombobulation any sort of justice.  I am annoyed and also amused that I finally am lost for words.

It's taken me my entire life, but here I am.

I am tapped. I am a closed book.  One which, upon opening, is full of blank, unmarred pages.

3 years.  Three years of my life, and the chapter is finally closed.  But really, the story is only just beginning.

Look at that! I said this wasn't the time for stories.  Apparently I lied.

The only song I can think of right now to describe the amount of love and power that is currently radiating off of us is, funnily enough, an ABBA song.  Chiquitita.

Sad, but true.

Emotional and ridiculous but full of hope and excitement and knowledge and faith and determination and innocence.  Imagination.  Dreams.

I propose a toast to the next 2-4 years, and what God has in store for us, for this project, and for all the people who are connected to it in whatever way.

We're all on a journey, lovers.

We've all got our own stories.

Start travelling.  Start writing it all down.

Carpe Diem, babes.

I love you.

I love you.  I love you.  I love you.

Wishing you all the wonderful feelings and rainy late night walks in the universe,

Hannah.

P.S.
New tattoo idea? 2.29.12

Yes?  I think yes. Eventually.  Someday when I am brave enough to sit in a chair and let someone drill through my skin with a needle, creating colors and patterns of beautiful meaning.

Okay.

Goodnight.