I am grateful for today. I was in a very dark place when it began for the simple reason that I find myself in very dark places from time to time. Bothered, bewildered, not at all bewitched. I hid it over breakfast (I’m good like that) and resigned myself to the notion of a day best left behind. And then I went for a long(ish) walk/run in the mountain air and the light became brighter as the tunnel grew shorter. Sometimes metaphors remind us of their purpose; I saw the forest through the trees …
… and it was beautiful, and it reminded me of all that exists outside of the microcosm that one’s life can become when inertia sets in, when we cycle through the same worries and conflicts and challenges over and over and over again. Doesn’t matter that we might live in the greatest city in the world – our lives become small if we don’t force them not to be. Being alone with the woods and the silence felt far more expansive than most of Manhattan has in the past several months. God I needed this. I saw inchworms and earthworms and spiders and bugs, two giant crows and a tiny light blue bird that looked like it flew straight out of a dream. And I saw snakes – three of them ( or parts of three of them ) wizened and flattened on the dirt roads. Either they moved too slowly or the cars moved too fast. I tried to be zen about it but not-so-secretly prayed that I wouldn’t see live ones.
And this steered my mind toward singular memories of both of my grandmothers; once in the 70s my dad’s mom walked into the living room and glanced at what I was watching on tv – it was a nature show with a giant snake writhing on the ground. Once in the 80s my mom’s mom walked into the same living room and I was sitting in the same place on a different sofa watching a different tv on which a Def Leppard video was playing (Photograph). They wore matching looks of repulsion upon seeing the screen.
This afternoon we went to Williamstown to watch our friends’ theater company – The Debate Society – absurdly talented and impossible to describe given my current level of energy.
Dinner and mirth and then my dad, Michel and I sang songs from D’s youth – by the end we had nailed a couple of numbers and devised a plan to perform and record. Wine, you lovely beast … thank you for making us feel invincible tonight.
Now here I am. So much to write, so much to right, but it’s much later than I’d intended to start this and so I will draw to a close.
When we share our art we run the risk of alienating the people we love, despite our greatest intentions. I imagine Pablo Picasso and Dora Maar suffered their share of awkward, steely evenings at the dinner table. “Bella – of course I know your eyes aren’t-” “Enough. Leave it alone.”
The arc of today is why I will never abandon hope. I’m going to bed lightyears away from where I awoke. Goodnight, loves.