Friday, December 23, 2011

Notes

Journal Excerpts


I'll get to know someone, talk to them frequently or semi-frequently for months/years, and then part with them for whatever circumstantial reason, never to talk to them again. Sometimes the communication fizzles out, but regardless, communications stops. I've always found this aspect of life bizarre and hard to adjust to. I still think fondly of many people, but realize I probably don't even know them now. I'm not who I was at 18, though I am.


The good thing about having a full stomach is that I'm forced to slowly savor my wine and red velvet cake.


In bar, involuntary audible sigh escapes me when The Wind Cries Mary begins.


I saw this girl today who was 20, but might as well have been 70. Somehow she was already beyond vanity or at least self consciousness of her beauty and youth. She was reading the paper on the train. Not fashionable. Worn mauve fingernail polish. Fluffy hair. She only frowned when she looked at her guy friend.


Sky is soon to be purple.





Standing on the 5 train platform at Union Square, I caught the scent of a passerby's aftershave and felt as if I were an entirely different person -- alone in New York with book while waiting on the train.


When a piece of poetry or music becomes more than that, poetry or music, it is what it was conceived to be, regardless of the author's intentions.


Write with no hope nor fear.


I'm in and entering a great highlight of my life. I was looking at photographs of my time in Spain, and I don't long for those days as much as I cherish now. Discipline is no longer the issue, it's a right frame of mind that I need. I'm there. I'm going to enjoy NYC, enjoy exercise, enjoy writing. And quit making everything so heavy. Life is now. I'm living it and I'm happy. Now are the golden days.


Woke this morning to see the perfect circle of a blood red sun floating between two buildings.


Some days I allow the slow walkers to pace me, to allow me to smell the roses. Some days I curse them.


After you become wealthy, win awards, and no longer need money or esteem, I imagine you return to the motive for creating art with which you began: it's fun and you want to.


1 comment:

  1. I love these thought-snippets. You really set a tone and a mood that one wants to dive into.

    ReplyDelete