Friday, September 10, 2010
It is here, the end, the end of my limbo, the moment of anticipation the closing of one door the opening of another all of me has left Georgia and has arrived in california, the thing that I desired is here, handed to me on a gilded platter, love, compassion, heartful union, all in my tiny hands, to grasp onto with all my might, but the leaving the ending the sorting the unpacking the arranging the assimilating, still to come still a task at hand, still a fear that I need to surmount. Gathering into, moving around, fitting, rearranging, restaging designing, creating, taking what was hers, adding what is mine, creating what is ours....my art, my furniture, my things, all part of me, crushed, smashed and mislaid, by the careless scoff of a man,
so there is an ending, there is a beginning, there is some scene about to shift, the lighting about to fade, the curtain drop, then raise again, the stage transformed from the one to another, and I walk out on that stage, costume changed, skin changed, heart changed. All of it new. All the old gone, all the new before me. i have shaken off that thing that I cling to so hard, replaced it with a soft and quiet space. How could I have been any one else ever? Hiding beneath layers of sadness, crying, reaching, begging, yearning for this that I have now.
Sadness envelops me like summer fog in the San Francisco of my childhood. I start anew.. The sun is shining, my love is smiling, comforting, adamantly suggesting that she will make it alright, that I will be alright, that we will make it through.
Broken wine glasses is all I truly fear. This is small stuff. I will be okay.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Green green trees hours of asana walking to town beer and tofu tacos summerfest the worlds smallest farmers market riotous unfolding almost never ending spring fox hunting slow paced straight a boo bff mlk Carter turner Chatahoochee river air so thick I can feel it on my back hammock Stella aiden russ Josie and mrs smith run club 6 miles through Agnes Scott and back first race ever snow rain pollen town square Virginia highland oasis in republican land oh Decatur my temporary home I could not have conjured up a prettier happier place beltline piedmont olmstead parks everywhere you look hopes that will not see their reward dreams that will not come true but for a moment an island in time you were the cradle the breast the safest harbor I could ever have wanted needed and like a proud mother you send me out now into the concrete jungle and hope that I will prevail like Frederick you have helped me gather colors sounds words for the long winter months ahead