jeudi, août 11


i woke up this morning feeling like i was caught in the past - does that ever happen to you? spatially you glide through the now, but temporally, ephemerally, you are walking through your own history.

the air smells like fall, today. before i went to bed, i walked through the house opening all of the windows so that the night could blow in. when i woke up this morning, the air in my room was heavy with dawn and with memories. as i dressed it was hard to bring myself into the mindspace that was on its way to work. i wanted to be getting ready to go to school. the clothes i picked out for myself are clothes that i no longer own. even now, i can't help but feel as though i'm sitting at the wrong desk, engaged in the wrong project.

my eyes are drawn again and again to the stephen greenblatt quote pinned beside my monitor - "And the work of art is not the passive surface on which this historical experience leaves its stamp, but one of the creative agents in the fashioning and re-fashioning of this experience." - this little piece of paper is the tenuous thread which connects me daily to that side of myself. some days the tug is gentle - like a gentle drawing on the tips of my fingers.. two hands slipping apart as we spin spin around the dance floor. on other days, days like today when the promise of autumn kisses the still green branches of the cherry tree outside my window, the tug is insistent, indeed determined.

until i find a way to reconcile myself - until i find a way to draw together the side of me which yearns to immerse myself in books and learning and papers and writing, with the side of me which wants to travel and explore and adventure, with the side of me that wants to meet someone who will wrap me up in their love and their desires - until i find a way to reunite my fractured psyche i will always be filled with longing for the past and for the future. the present will never be enough.