Back in Provence
7.30
Cicadas. Sun. Vines. Mad hairy dog.
yes.
Weight shifts. Burdens drop off my shoulders being back in the stickiness of family life. No need to dash for the tube or prepare the next meal, or rush down the street being late to meet someone. But the cobwebs are all over the place. The stickiness of being a son.
This place always forces me to put myself into some sort of perspective. But for the first time, I don't find myself acting like a kid, snuggling into the corners of being waited upon willingly. I'm more out there. A bit more perky and sensitive to the others than usual.
I'm also reading more than I usually do here. Reading Hannah Arendt. A play called 'Twelve Angry Men" I will be teaching in September. Very good stuff.
Must prepare for a meal. Liquidity of family relationships calls.
posted by chienchaud @ 7:25 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Hi! It's fantastic to hear from you, Gintare. I had almost abandone this blog only to find people are actually reading it.
I am very envious of your trip to Russia. I would love to go to St. Petersburg. There are flights from here to Moscow which I'll have to try out in November.
Yes, your new year will be very different. I'll email you some thoughts on that. Meanwhile, you've got a whole lot to look forward to.
Good luck with the EE! Enjoy yourself and your beat poetry!
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