New Year's thoughts. I have the belief, maybe naive, but that seems to be
true in my life, that love is a single force, connected like roots underground,
growing in all kinds of ways and places, a good thing, not hurtful to anyone
or it wouldn't be love. I've been lucky in my life too - having relationships
where intimacy and independence can both be explored, to be part of
someone else and still be me, exploring my own paths, and watching
my loved ones explore theirs.
I like to step off familiar paths sometimes - to see what might be found in
the unmapped places. Sometimes you find someone searching there too,
who will join you in forging a path, in sweet exploration together, making
new maps as you go.
january 3
january 3
Another Rte. 2 encounter, like catching a glimpse of someone in a passing
train. Waiting for what seems like forever at the light, looking out to my left,
just about the place I took a picture in the rain last spring. Cars having
turned on to this road from the crossroad start to pass by, one stopping
beside me with a Mom driving two kids, a boy and a girl. The girl is playing
animatedly with her Barbie dolls and the boy is looking out the window,
chin in hand, so that our eyes meet directly just a few feet apart when their
car stops. We smile at each other for a moment and then their car moves on.
...
I had to stay put for what seemed like a long long time this year, and
spent too much time by myself. I like being alone sometimes, maybe
most people do, but not as much as I was this year. Now I can leave
for a while, feeling like I'm taking my surroundings with me in a way
with my phone, and feeling wired with computers to use where I'll be.
Flying out to spend some days in Michigan, and then plans at last to see E.
I want to be able to be in the place where someone I love so much lives.
january 4
january 4
The last time I was here was almost two years ago, and I drove - passing
the long hours on the way from Boston to Detroit listening to Barenaked
Ladies and Sarah McLachlan, in February of 1999, just a few weeks before
my life changed forever. Today I rent a car though, just something inexpensive
so I can get around. They point me to a section of the lot and say pick any
car there. I search a bit, finding one that seems right for me, and once on the
highway I can see that it's true. Steering, braking, accelerating - it's responsive
to my lightest touch. I will feel in good hands with this car.
january 8
january 8
The kindstrangers mailbox is usually sort of a ghost town. I stop in
now and then to clear out tumbleweeds. But today I found something
from someone at an alternative newspaper, coincidentally in Boston,
writing about Survivor II, the one in Australia, I think, who came to this
site, perhaps because I wrote about Survivor in the summer, when K and
I were fans, and wonders about an interview. I think I missed his deadline,
and felt a little bad. Not so much wanting to advertise the site - still a
scary thought. But I would have liked to give credit where
credit is due, to the one who breathes life into it.
january 9
january 9
Sometimes I stop abruptly
frozen for a moment
afraid of being lost again
afraid of losing you again
I don't know how I found you
Only that a window opened in my path
and when I reached through
there you were
there you were
Waiting and
wanting
a world without windows
just to be on one side of the wall.
january 12
january 12
I like this apartment. It has a good feeling to it. But this corner is a little
dark, so I've bought a pole lamp and sit on the floor to assemble it,
unwrapping the packaging as I go. A base, three sections of the pole
and a top, and one wire that connects them all. It seems better to start
at the top and work towards the base, so I follow that plan, listening to
a new CD, nice music in the late afternoon
One of the parts is wrapped in a sort of bag, with handles that I notice
have been loosely tied by hand. It seems like a strange
connection
to think of the anonymous person who tied this someplace else
in the
world, someone I can't picture and will never know, but whose
fingerprints
are here in this room with me now.
All assembled, the lamp shining in the corner, a more serene feel to the
apartment now. A look out the window. In Boston it would be dark by
now but here it's still light at 5. Lace up my boots and walk out in the
snow, my thoughts on faraway parts of the world and lives that are
being lived there.
january 13
january 13
Detroit is surrounded by small city suburbs and we wind up in one of
them for dinner, choosing a place that looks warm and inviting on such
a cold night. Arrive at 9, an hour wait, but a nice bar for talking and
waiting. B has Zinfandel, I have Cointreau, nice to be here talking, a
relaxed feeling from the hum of voices and the haze of smoke. A look
around at the tables in the other room. Each has a lamp suspended
over it, kind of unusual with shades of blue glass. The wait goes by and
soon there is a table. Slide into the booth, nice to be inside on this wet
rainy night, leaning over the table, bathed in blue light.
january 16
january 16
Today one day and pieces of. Listening to loud music on the way into
work. The train full, the coffee shop too, lots of people on the street at
lunch. The sweet people at work. All the beautiful shades of red hair
you see in Boston. A carrot orange across the way, a rope of auburn
red in front of me on the packed returning train tonight.
It feels good to be back in Boston, but I miss the little apartment and I can't stop thinking about it. It made me feel free, something I value
more now when I see how easily it can be lost. Not free from people, or
not the ones I'm closest to. The hold they have on my life nourishes me
and keeps me alive. It's sweetness to think of being held that way. But
free from things and their demands, from senseless commitments of time,
free to move around, free to come and go.
Back in the car driving towards home, listening to softer music now,
reflecting on freedom and how good it feels to have it. Today one day
and pieces of.
january 18
january 18
E was home for Christmas, but it's so good to see her here in her
new home. Now I can picture where she lives, what she's doing
when we talk on the phone or by computer.
I like Seattle and the feeling of energy here. Bits of overheard
conversation. Platform, hardware, software. Longer and longer
battery life. WAN, Gateway, Red Hat, Bluetooth.
january 20
january20
We spend the day walking through some of Seattle's neighborhoods,
shopping and stopping often at restaurants and the coffee shops that
really are everywhere - my favorite way to get to know a city.
Something folky and nice playing in one shop. The girl at the counter
says it's Greg Brown when I ask, someone whose music she likes very
much. Music is a kind of language, and when you speak it, it's always
good finding others who do too. Folk is not a dialect I speak well, but I'm
glad to learn some from someone who likes it, the way I'm happier I can
speak a little country now. She writes the name of the album that's playing, Further In, and the name of the one that she likes even more, Dream Caf�.
Light rain falling now and then all day, but it feels nice and seems to suit this
city. Up and down through the streets of the city, happy just walking,
remembering rain.
Flying to London on Tuesday and back home again Sunday, a trip that's
been planned for a long time. And I couldn't wait to see E in Seattle.
But I've been gone too much this month, my desk covered with papers
I'll never get through and the answering machine full of calls to return.
Still, I'm glad it has all come about now, just when I most crave being free.
To go when I want, no medication, no procedure holding me back, altering
my mood, controlling my life. It will take me awhile to trust this freedom
again, but I value it, value it, value it - I know it can disappear in a moment.
Back in Symphony Hall tonight. B loves this music, so that makes me
happy, but it remains math in the form of sound to me. Still, nice to be
surrounded by darkness and warmth, feeling the end of the day settle in.
Listening to music I don't understand, more familiar rhythms taking hold
of my thoughts, embraced by a music that speaks to my heart.
