It’s been a while since I’ve written online and in public, and I have no idea what the hell is going on in this draft.
Downtown was sexy and lively; this new place has a different kind of beauty. It’s a beauty I’m still figuring out, but it seems to be the beauty of breath and light, the beauty that snags your attention not to pull you along but to leave you right where you are: standing still and seeing.
while i’ve always believed myself to be one of the crazy ones, the rebels, the misfits (yes, that’s from the crazy ones apple commercial), it’s much easier to take a stab at that kind of lifestyle when you’re not a single mom. and so i am more sensitive to the perception of frivolity now… whether it comes from other people or from my own doubts. it wasn’t until i was on the second leg of my journey (from western new york into ohio) that i remembered writing this blog post almost one year ago: the poetry MFA (or what can be ridiculous and still worthwhile).
let me begin by saying that if an acquaintance or co-worker or casual friend is going through divorce, by all means follow the advice offered by the author: keep your mouth shut about who’s to blame and don’t give any advice (emotional, legal or otherwise). however, if your sister or BFF or close friend or someone you really, really dig is going through divorce, that kind of luke-warm approach will probably be completely unhelpful (#1), make her feel further alienated (#2) and totally piss her off (#3).
tonight is opening night. i’ll be there with a picnic and a hot date (as long as i can drag him away from the pool).
the city meets my needs right now, but it may not always. as much as i’m having a love affair with life downtown at the moment, i’ve always been able to see the romance of a quiet spot in the country. some day, maybe that’ll be what i need.
as a runner, i am particularly saddened by the choice of this setting for any kind of violence. as a resident of albany, ny, i wonder how much longer we can be safe (incidents in manhattan just to our south, boston a similar distance to our west). as a poet, i only wish words could be larger…