I must have known you were writing, as I woke in agitation nights ago with the urge to check the site. I wondered in my half-awake state if you had found another Narcissus to whom to write. Some lyrics to a recent song I admire go: I should have told you this world is not my own. Because this is more of the truth, probably, than you wish to know. You have been walking among the dead for a long time, before even you lost your father, and that is because some people just enter this world oddly afflicted with straddling dimensions, and they strive to fit in, to be normal, to appear like everyone else. Drugs help. I think you were straddling the half living from the beginning, being blessed with some innate sense that this was not all there was to this world, and so perhaps that is why the ones you love are the disappeared--not because you made them disappear, but possibly because life's infinite mystery knew you to be capable of loving beyond living, of seeing love beyond flesh.
You come to me in my dreams, you sneak in to everyone's, and you will love and feel half here and half there because parts of you are owned by legitimate lovers who are not seen. And you will question when he is not near because that is what we do. I do it every day, and even today, as I held my beautiful man in my arms we drifted so far away in our minds from one another...I came back first and asked, what are you thinking. He said, about the car insurance. He felt bad until I told him I was imagining the technique one employs for layering hair. All the while, right there. If we can be in one another's arms and far away, in one another's dreams, and miles apart, why can't love weave in and out of the living and the dead.
You don't have to know the answers. They are known, somewhere, but we will never be able to interpret the language they are written in. My new proverb: don't ask, sing. don't answer, dance.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Walk among us
My Dearest Friend,
I have little doubt that you will read this, as we have seemed to have abandoned this "project" long ago. I have talked to you frequently, as you know, in my dreams, but in waking life I have been ghostly.
Yes, there is someone new in my life. And each hour that I do not talk to him I spend talking myself out of him. It has made me realize that I have become the ghost in life since Eric died. I am the one who hides in the shadows and stays at arms length from anyone I could possibly touch or touch me.
I took this as a sense of pride really. I concentrate on a few close loved ones and the rest are superfluous. As long as I do not need anyone in my life, I am safe. I am invisible.
And now. And now. Now I am being tested and it angers me. I am not sure if what I feel is even real. Maybe I just want to feel again so I am letting him in. I do not know.
My safety net has holes in it, my logic has flaws, and I feel as if I am in between the living and the dead.
So many of the people I have loved are gone. And I just want to be a ghost with them. There is no room in my living life because I carry and walk with the dead. But they are the cherished ones. I am reluctant to let them go. I am afraid. I will be alone if I let them go. Or I will open myself up to heartache again.
A friend praised me recently for being open to love again. I took the compliment, odd as it was. I love the intangible, that has never stopped for me. But I have not permitted myself to love another person.
it is easy to feign light heartedness and folly. That makes people feel like everything is okay. They do not need to worry about you, and thus, I am left alone with the dead, where I prefer to be.
Do I love this new man, or do I love the idea of loving again?
I am having a hard time moving my feet off this proverbial bridge and just jumping. The last time I jumped, the ride was glorious and the fall more painful then I ever knew.
yours,
G.
I have little doubt that you will read this, as we have seemed to have abandoned this "project" long ago. I have talked to you frequently, as you know, in my dreams, but in waking life I have been ghostly.
Yes, there is someone new in my life. And each hour that I do not talk to him I spend talking myself out of him. It has made me realize that I have become the ghost in life since Eric died. I am the one who hides in the shadows and stays at arms length from anyone I could possibly touch or touch me.
I took this as a sense of pride really. I concentrate on a few close loved ones and the rest are superfluous. As long as I do not need anyone in my life, I am safe. I am invisible.
And now. And now. Now I am being tested and it angers me. I am not sure if what I feel is even real. Maybe I just want to feel again so I am letting him in. I do not know.
My safety net has holes in it, my logic has flaws, and I feel as if I am in between the living and the dead.
So many of the people I have loved are gone. And I just want to be a ghost with them. There is no room in my living life because I carry and walk with the dead. But they are the cherished ones. I am reluctant to let them go. I am afraid. I will be alone if I let them go. Or I will open myself up to heartache again.
A friend praised me recently for being open to love again. I took the compliment, odd as it was. I love the intangible, that has never stopped for me. But I have not permitted myself to love another person.
it is easy to feign light heartedness and folly. That makes people feel like everything is okay. They do not need to worry about you, and thus, I am left alone with the dead, where I prefer to be.
Do I love this new man, or do I love the idea of loving again?
I am having a hard time moving my feet off this proverbial bridge and just jumping. The last time I jumped, the ride was glorious and the fall more painful then I ever knew.
yours,
G.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
one year and so many miles between us
Ove a year since our last blog. have we travelled the world? Read new books? Written words not meant to be read in public? Have we loved? Lost? Cried? Have we lived this last year true to ourselves, or have we been lost in a world of others expectations? A friend of mine celebrates New years every night (that is if he is awake at midnight) for him every night marks the beginning of a new year.
So with that in mind, my absent friend, Happy new Year. May I see your return soon.
So with that in mind, my absent friend, Happy new Year. May I see your return soon.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
grace and humility
Women have a tendancy to reply to a compliment in one of two ways; 1: the deflection, "Oh, no, not me really, but YOU, You are..." and 2. The Secret, "This? Really? I got it at Walmart if you can believe that and for only $2.00"
I have tred to teach my children and myself that when given a compliment simply reply with, "Thank you." Try it. it is not as easy as you may think.
I was humbled into silence by your review and observations of my little nest. I immediately wanted to negate everything you said, and probably could with ease. Things like, :Everything looks good in candlelight...if you only knew what it took to pull that off...did you not hear my daughter demand I go out and buy ink for the printer in the middle of the party???
But all that mess is part of my nest. Being the accute observer that you are, I do believe you were complimenting me on what was not seen that night, you know me well enough to know what it takes to put on a show, you see through the candle light into the harsh daylight.
So with grace and humility, to you I say, thank you.
G.
PS I have been hearing God louder in recent days. But like an annoying call I hit the ignore button.
I have tred to teach my children and myself that when given a compliment simply reply with, "Thank you." Try it. it is not as easy as you may think.
I was humbled into silence by your review and observations of my little nest. I immediately wanted to negate everything you said, and probably could with ease. Things like, :Everything looks good in candlelight...if you only knew what it took to pull that off...did you not hear my daughter demand I go out and buy ink for the printer in the middle of the party???
But all that mess is part of my nest. Being the accute observer that you are, I do believe you were complimenting me on what was not seen that night, you know me well enough to know what it takes to put on a show, you see through the candle light into the harsh daylight.
So with grace and humility, to you I say, thank you.
G.
PS I have been hearing God louder in recent days. But like an annoying call I hit the ignore button.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
"everyone in me is a bird..."
maybe there will always be a voyeuristic element to my personality--that element that makes me claim over and over again that I have often felt like a ghost haunting even my own skin--displaced, oddly unhinged and out of time, looking at photographs (szarkowski has nothing on me), wandering through time.
But what I am trying to say on this, your birth day, is that I meant it, sincerely. You have a beautiful family--this coming from the ghost who has haunted all the pretty families. What you have created is a masterpiece from unlikelihoods, and just like the great impressionist paintings, perhaps from so close a vantage point you cannot see the cathedral, but I see it.
And the love you have sown along the way, ("Everyone in me is a bird.
I am beating all my wings" --anne sexton
They are, they are there, beating their wings, bearing up the beauty of it all.
But what I am trying to say on this, your birth day, is that I meant it, sincerely. You have a beautiful family--this coming from the ghost who has haunted all the pretty families. What you have created is a masterpiece from unlikelihoods, and just like the great impressionist paintings, perhaps from so close a vantage point you cannot see the cathedral, but I see it.
And the love you have sown along the way, ("Everyone in me is a bird.
I am beating all my wings" --anne sexton
They are, they are there, beating their wings, bearing up the beauty of it all.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Purple Crayons
So good to hear your voice again! I want more of it. Going to a bibe class is great, if nothing else I would love to hear the opinions of others. Many times in my life I have reached for a bible to read, to look up quotes, to refresh my memory of the commandments. I am Catholic and we are notoriously not known for knowing the Bible. Maybe you can impart some of your new found wisdom on me?
Kindergarden. I have two memories. One, I shoved a purple crayon up my nose. Not the small sleek kind of crayon, but the large fat ones intrusted to small chubby hands. I had to go to the nurse, and then the doctor to retrieve the purple crayon. I have no idea why I did it. I just did.
And the other memory: One of my classmates had died (lukemia) his name was Jason. We were all making cards to give to the family and I did not know how to spell Jason. I asked my teacher and she responded with " L-O-V-E" I thought she did not hear me so I asked again, "How do you spell JASON?" Again she said, "L-O-V-E." She was crying and I came away frustated and for the first time in my life thinking that grownups were nuts.
I hid my card so it would not be included in with the others. Sorry Jason.
Before checking this blog I recieved an email from my sister in law. It seems my niece is being confirmed in November. I am her GodMother. I should be there. But I can't. So my sister in law wants me to send her a letter that she can read on the retreat she is going to.
What on earth could I tell her?
Dear Ali,
Well, I guess now you can get married in the church if you want to. Do you really buy all this stuff? I know I didn't. After my confirmation my family had a party for me and I lost my virginity to my boyfriend...who by the way I met in CCD.
So, I guess that's all.
Maybe you should pray for me!
Love,
your GodMother.
PS Read the Song of Solomon, it's the best thing in the Bible.
Maybe something religious is in the air of late, just today Annie asked me what the ten commandments are, and to my surprise I was able to tell her. But then she wanted to know if "across the street" counts as "your neighbor". So many grey areas with that book written in black and white.
It remains a good read, but until they make the value of a woman more than that of an ox, I have a hard time swallowing it.
Maybe you can change my mind.
Welcome back friend.
Kindergarden. I have two memories. One, I shoved a purple crayon up my nose. Not the small sleek kind of crayon, but the large fat ones intrusted to small chubby hands. I had to go to the nurse, and then the doctor to retrieve the purple crayon. I have no idea why I did it. I just did.
And the other memory: One of my classmates had died (lukemia) his name was Jason. We were all making cards to give to the family and I did not know how to spell Jason. I asked my teacher and she responded with " L-O-V-E" I thought she did not hear me so I asked again, "How do you spell JASON?" Again she said, "L-O-V-E." She was crying and I came away frustated and for the first time in my life thinking that grownups were nuts.
I hid my card so it would not be included in with the others. Sorry Jason.
Before checking this blog I recieved an email from my sister in law. It seems my niece is being confirmed in November. I am her GodMother. I should be there. But I can't. So my sister in law wants me to send her a letter that she can read on the retreat she is going to.
What on earth could I tell her?
Dear Ali,
Well, I guess now you can get married in the church if you want to. Do you really buy all this stuff? I know I didn't. After my confirmation my family had a party for me and I lost my virginity to my boyfriend...who by the way I met in CCD.
So, I guess that's all.
Maybe you should pray for me!
Love,
your GodMother.
PS Read the Song of Solomon, it's the best thing in the Bible.
Maybe something religious is in the air of late, just today Annie asked me what the ten commandments are, and to my surprise I was able to tell her. But then she wanted to know if "across the street" counts as "your neighbor". So many grey areas with that book written in black and white.
It remains a good read, but until they make the value of a woman more than that of an ox, I have a hard time swallowing it.
Maybe you can change my mind.
Welcome back friend.
a funny thing happened on the way to the confessional...
funny. you should mention sin. Maybe just funny to reign this back around to a religious theme, since, I confess, on Friday I went to a Bible study group. Yep, I did. I think I was the only one who was confined to the assigned chapter, because I knew no other verses or scriptures. sure, I went to sunday school, but what I most recall were the arts and craft and how my projects never quite obtained that "reality" that I had envisioned for them. They ALWAYS looked like crafts, not like life. I wanted Hopper, I got Barney.
This exact problem plagues me today--yes, everything that would plague me for the rest of my life plagued me in kindergarten--there's my best seller. I was a neurotic mess at 6, I just did not know how to capitalize on said neurosis (a la Sedaris)
What did I learn in this Bible class you ask? I learned a lot. I learned that a) I don't know the Bible, and b) said Tome is full of interesting and contradictory information, and c) that if I only had the faith of a mustard seed I could move mountains, or tell a tree to live in the ocean, depending on which apostle you're reading.
I understand that right now. I understand that all the knowledge I think I may have obtained to date has done SQUAT for moi. That the faith of a mustard seed is sort of like a nuclear fission type thing, only much bigger and less explicable, although if Einstein were here I am sure he would still be trying to mathematically quantify it.
Am I going back? Probably. If I can just get past that Hopper/Barney dichotomy, I am sure I will be a much happier person.
PS: Sorry that dude stole your life. But face it, it probably takes a lot less chutzpah to live HIS, and he just wasn't up to the task of what you have to deal with. Would you have trusted him to have taken care of the things you have taken care of? I don't think so my friend...You have been a surgeon in the brain surgery of life. Not everyone has the steady hands for that.
N.
This exact problem plagues me today--yes, everything that would plague me for the rest of my life plagued me in kindergarten--there's my best seller. I was a neurotic mess at 6, I just did not know how to capitalize on said neurosis (a la Sedaris)
What did I learn in this Bible class you ask? I learned a lot. I learned that a) I don't know the Bible, and b) said Tome is full of interesting and contradictory information, and c) that if I only had the faith of a mustard seed I could move mountains, or tell a tree to live in the ocean, depending on which apostle you're reading.
I understand that right now. I understand that all the knowledge I think I may have obtained to date has done SQUAT for moi. That the faith of a mustard seed is sort of like a nuclear fission type thing, only much bigger and less explicable, although if Einstein were here I am sure he would still be trying to mathematically quantify it.
Am I going back? Probably. If I can just get past that Hopper/Barney dichotomy, I am sure I will be a much happier person.
PS: Sorry that dude stole your life. But face it, it probably takes a lot less chutzpah to live HIS, and he just wasn't up to the task of what you have to deal with. Would you have trusted him to have taken care of the things you have taken care of? I don't think so my friend...You have been a surgeon in the brain surgery of life. Not everyone has the steady hands for that.
N.
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