I really am under a Montreal sky. Many many Mexican nights with cold stars, socks worn to bed, fireworks, lonely moments but dreams of Freida too. A little swing on by home just for one day, an unexpected weekend in New York and now, home at last!
I went to New York to hold hands with some people I love because I needed to hold those hands. The world is full of surprises because …what is the because? We are not awake. We only see routine. Habit is human. Beauty is ignored. Death is constant, like air, like water. All these, we take for granted and if our attention is drawn to them, we are confounded, confused, bewildered.
My little house, full of things from my parents’ house, of books from my childhood of old favorite clothes, of children’s’ drawings, of furniture I never notice. And spirits? Are there spirits too? I think so. Just as on a voyage, there are spirits. In the dark roads where only the driver knows where he is going and we the passengers trust him absolutely to bring us to our destination. Planes, miraculously slicing through the clouds, a little pink lightening off,the wing to enliven things a touch. The old fashioned bus thrumming onward on the highway, passing mysterious trucks. The destination, utterly unfamiliar and yet trusted. Nothing matters except the other people. Nothing at all. Beauty, familiarity, objects, travel……nothing except other souls.