Wow. I haven't posted in quite a long time, so I'm going to put out some notes and chronologies into this book of days, so that on some rainy night later in my kingship, I might look back and reward some past moment with great honor. August I went home, to engage in some bipolar writhings. Daytime, I followed email trails around the globe until they met their own tails--finding many of my searches headless, I often lost my own. Frustration, confusion, sadness. And then in the evenings out with friends, great friends from days of old, working out with Jamie, sitting around various suburban grottos with DanJoshJoshBitaJuliaTamarStacey, conquering Bally's and Billy Goat with Johnny, oh goodness it was sweet. Full and sweet. But the pace was much still my yearlong pace, of frenetic doing and doing. So I resolved a week apart. I covered all the pots, turned all the burners off, took off my chef's hat and smattered apron, and drove north. and north. traveling with me in the passenger seat, my plywood lover from the 1940's, who was teaching me to bring deep beautiful tones from her lips. loon lake with parents. floating about, wandering around the large 6-bedroom plant my parents have been watering for some time now, kayaking around, deepsipping crisp air with chest out, watching stars that sand the kippa of the sky.
Then back into the car with my curvacious companion. East! Through the green rollings of Vermont and the White mountains of New Hampshire, cutting straight the axis of Maine, sharp to the edge of the earth, where it scattered itself into pieces at mount desert island, at Bar Harbor. Days filled with non-sexual group intimacies, rolling around all the soft places of Sasha's house, venturing an hour out to sea with newfriend Jamie on his motor boat, to an island far adrift with great views, quiet forests, and freezingfresh water, clear to brighten the brilliant rocks and seathings, which pecked at my feat like the tadpoles in loon lake. shabbat and then midnight run south. a caravan with ariela and me and the plywood lover in the camry, and lucas and sasha and elishabeth in lucas's big white van. back south refreshed. ready. ready not to know. ready not to have things figured out. Ready to love my journeys, even when they split at me. ready. and now i'm back.
ready to embarrass myself shamelessly (orchestra audition today) and ready to commit and uncommit myself boldly. ready to love without reserve.