Mark (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} marknotcollette) wrote,@ 2008-02-13 22:49:00 |
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Tonight was the most beautiful evening I've experienced (and yes, I think this is the correct verb) in a very long time. It began when I napped until just before sunset and, realizing that sunset was approaching very rapidly, I threw clothes on, grabbed a Trader Joe's Bag (intending to shop after catching the sunset), and went up to the lookout. The view was extremely clear, so much so that it seemed I could almost make out the lights in the city turning on as the sun sank into the ocean. I feel a solidarity with the world when it looks like this. It's as if nature is cooling my burning emotions, nurturing them, bringing them to maturity. I can't translate the visual metaphor very well, at least in the terms of the emotional calm that it seems to give me.
I've been writing much more, lately. Slowly. Slowly squeezing the words out of the page. Remembering is becoming a process of inventing. Inventing is becoming a process of self-discovery. Self-discovery is leading to new levels of awareness.
After the Sather lecture (which I enjoyed--it's very relevant to all the things I want to study) I went straight to the practice rooms and practiced for an hour, which meant that I was still there after the building has closed. That was a little eerie.
But the walk to the bus was gorgeous. The breeze was strong and powerful. Protective.
And now I am home. Somehow, miraculously, marvelously, filled with hope.
I've been writing much more, lately. Slowly. Slowly squeezing the words out of the page. Remembering is becoming a process of inventing. Inventing is becoming a process of self-discovery. Self-discovery is leading to new levels of awareness.
After the Sather lecture (which I enjoyed--it's very relevant to all the things I want to study) I went straight to the practice rooms and practiced for an hour, which meant that I was still there after the building has closed. That was a little eerie.
But the walk to the bus was gorgeous. The breeze was strong and powerful. Protective.
And now I am home. Somehow, miraculously, marvelously, filled with hope.
