Niece K called this morning and we had a long catch-up, a follow-up to our December visit. I sent her this picture of the new sheets on the bed. Looks like a good place to be on -4 degree day. However, I did not tarry there.
I did finish the soup which was and is terrific. I will be eating for several days. It's nice to be comfortable in a kitchen again after my painful and aborted Brooklyn sojourn. The kitchen table here is large and the room is sunny so it is a good place to sit and work.
Given the interconnectivity issue, I didn't get a lot of employment research done. I did use the time to read. I seem to be weaning myself from moving images a bit. I was in a bit of despair as I have not really been able to concentrate on reading for awhile now. I haven't had that fantastic sense of losing myself in a narrative. Well, that's not exactly true as I am on the nineteenth and last disc of Cutting for Stone. But I just like being read to.
Cooder enjoyed my extra reading time today. That's a thing cats can be good for, reading company. Emmylou is less likely to get so close, but perhaps that is because Cooder is so often nearby.
I did work on resolutions and such. Funny for that kind of internal, concentrated work I am better using analog methods. I don't feel the necessary intimacy with a computer.
I must admit to feelings of loss and panic again. Time is ticking along and I am still confused and unsure of what to do, which direction is "home" … I had this conversation a bit with C&J, wondering what "my place" is on all sorts of levels, and why I had not yet been able to find it.
by Cynthia Lowen
The god I'd left behind sent one last email
before returning to his people.
That summer was sixty-five degrees and fluorescent.
I was working at a law firm.
The logical mind thinks,
You'll be paid for your suffering.
Paradise is of this earth
and it is yours,
said the copy-machine.
The impenetrable old growth of paper on my desk
begged to be made
When I took off my skirt-suit I felt like my mother, or myself
to be my mother.
I stood at the edge
of a New World.
I stared up the long rocky coast.
Whichever way was something to bump against
I pressed on in that direction.
It was like a sickness.
It was like the uncontrollable urge
to eat dirt.
Right, where is, what is my "manifest destiny"?
|Cooder seems clear about HER manifest destiny.|