I am trusting, for better or for worse, in this weirdly methodical (for me) organic process. That may seem like a contradiction in terms, but as I get older, the more respect I have for archeologists. The people who just sit there patiently brushing dirt off things ever so delicately layer by layer in hopes of finding another piece of a gigantic puzzle - one that most of them know they will never definitively solve, but move forward nonetheless. You can't just go ransacking around ancient sites and hope to find a treasure. Because, even if you do find that treasure, it will be out of context and you might have damaged other perhaps less obviously valuable bits of information that - if discovered - would have been more valuable than the glittery object you're holding in your greedy, impatient hand.
As someone who spent so many years working with cut-ups and random chance operations (which I still love by the way) to be working this way seems so strange and yet in some other way weirdly healing. Like there's a faith there is something to find after all. Not that it'll be 'definitive' or The One Great Truth, but it's there...this understanding of another human being...or two...and a different time period in which I did not live. It feels weirdly - dare I say it - mature.
If nothing else, I am getting a much greater sense of my grandmothers, and in so doing have found myself reaching back further to their grandmothers...the sense of feeling backwards towards history, finally embracing my heritage, which is not without some big dark holes (visible, invisible, palpable, almost like air). Linking historical events and people, finding common threads, realizing how close we are, so much closer than I suspected.
When I do give myself the permission to write, it feels fabulous. But I am keeping that in check, so I can continue the reading and the notes and the perambulating in my brain and heart.
Throughout all this my lovely husband, John, has been extraordinarily supportive, even when I've kind of lost it, which I do...on a fairly regular basis. Sometimes crying, sometimes just acting in an um well not so great way and sometimes just exhausted...and sometimes, even, well, happy. He is the true love of my life because he can handle this. I've never been with anyone who could. My gratitude for him in my life is beyond all else. (And happily his visa process is moving forward...finally...so in a couple months, hopefully, we'll be in Montreal for his green card interview - which will be almost the end of a way longer than expected road...)
I have two Ganesh statues, one brass, small on my computer base (from my mother) and one larger, reddish color, a writing Ganesh looking at me with piercing eyes in the corner of my desk. Ganesh the trickster, the creator and remover of obstacles...of course he's writing. I just wish I had those extra arms....
On a different note, my friend Kate Vargas debuted her album Down To My Soul at Rockwood Music Hall in NYC on Thursday and damn but did she kick ass. But don't take my word for it. Here is a link to one of her songs 'Throw the Devil Back' here. You can get the album at that site, too.
Also playing with her was the lovely and talented Andrea Wittgens, another extraordinary singer/songwriter. Below are two photos John took on Thursday. Give yourself a treat and listen to these ladies' music.
|The divine Kate Vargas at Rockwood Music Hall (photo © John Barclay-Morton)|
|Andrea Wittgens playing with Kate (Andrea's got a Pandora station: check her out!) |
© John Barclay-Morton
So, like, do I have the most gorgeous and talented friends or what? Yet another blessing in this life.