Roger. That's an affirmative, Julia.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Spring Should Hurry
Ay.
Like how we say in la lengua when things are like that. It's been a long, busy, dark, cold, indoorsy winter. I am ready to emerge; having just realized just how much cocooned; my inner ready to tear asunder my outer. It gets like this in March in Alaska: Using two semi-colons in a sentence like an I don't much care because one does what she can to string together the meaning when buried under snow for months stacked on end - October November December January February March - no punctuation in between them or anything - they just keep stacking.
I started school again. English literature, my love my love. Mastering it in 36 credits. Bought books in the student book store, bought a student parking pass, bought college-ruled paper... School is now sitting in a room with people of my age-ish - critiquing, discoursing, positing ideas - like we do. It seems indulgent and necessary all at once. Literature, the study of, is my connection to humanity, is how I dial into normal.
This now is Spring Break! Me who had forgotten such things, unthinking in semester chunks of time for years now, remembers how good a true break truly feels. Having not escaped the winterwinterwinter (just the school) I use the time instead to breathe a little easier, notice the more light outside, catch up on other non-discoursy life things. Like how I haven't written but papers in a long time. Like how I yearn to construct something large and wooden with my own two hands. Like how there ought to be a real upcoming vacation of sorts planned. Like work. Oh, let me represent my wonderful work life with how it goes: Good work is rewarded with more work. There is certainly enough of everything except time.
Had this great day - moving-forward meetings, celebratory lunch with newly credentialed momma PMHNP, a little culinary journalism, cleared the breakfast bar free of mail (major thing that), casual dinner out with J, going-out-of-business vulturism at Borders where I procured not only one of my favorite and long-lost reads from university (for $1!) but also the Momofuku cookbook which falls open naturally to the section on oysters.
And the best part of today were the three points of reaching out, landing, feeling connected to those who truly fathom - a first thing musical memory email from Kari, an international poetry art postcard from Candice, and a whistling spring thrush swell of a phone call with Sarah. They who, for me I believe, have just ushered in spring, heralding its arrival with their messages of memory, poetry and music, all unexpectedly arriving - these muses - all in one day!
Like how we say in la lengua when things are like that. It's been a long, busy, dark, cold, indoorsy winter. I am ready to emerge; having just realized just how much cocooned; my inner ready to tear asunder my outer. It gets like this in March in Alaska: Using two semi-colons in a sentence like an I don't much care because one does what she can to string together the meaning when buried under snow for months stacked on end - October November December January February March - no punctuation in between them or anything - they just keep stacking.
I started school again. English literature, my love my love. Mastering it in 36 credits. Bought books in the student book store, bought a student parking pass, bought college-ruled paper... School is now sitting in a room with people of my age-ish - critiquing, discoursing, positing ideas - like we do. It seems indulgent and necessary all at once. Literature, the study of, is my connection to humanity, is how I dial into normal.
This now is Spring Break! Me who had forgotten such things, unthinking in semester chunks of time for years now, remembers how good a true break truly feels. Having not escaped the winterwinterwinter (just the school) I use the time instead to breathe a little easier, notice the more light outside, catch up on other non-discoursy life things. Like how I haven't written but papers in a long time. Like how I yearn to construct something large and wooden with my own two hands. Like how there ought to be a real upcoming vacation of sorts planned. Like work. Oh, let me represent my wonderful work life with how it goes: Good work is rewarded with more work. There is certainly enough of everything except time.
Had this great day - moving-forward meetings, celebratory lunch with newly credentialed momma PMHNP, a little culinary journalism, cleared the breakfast bar free of mail (major thing that), casual dinner out with J, going-out-of-business vulturism at Borders where I procured not only one of my favorite and long-lost reads from university (for $1!) but also the Momofuku cookbook which falls open naturally to the section on oysters.
And the best part of today were the three points of reaching out, landing, feeling connected to those who truly fathom - a first thing musical memory email from Kari, an international poetry art postcard from Candice, and a whistling spring thrush swell of a phone call with Sarah. They who, for me I believe, have just ushered in spring, heralding its arrival with their messages of memory, poetry and music, all unexpectedly arriving - these muses - all in one day!
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