Dear 'my grandmother's watch',
six p.m. is a great time to drink espresso.
six oh two p.m. is a great time to reevaluate the haircut that you received last Saturday
six oh seven p.m. is a great time to kiss the gods and thank them for your mother (whether or not you ever met your mother)
yes, we are alive in this helter skelter, man made, corn cob of a dream.
we have spoken before, of supposed indecision. it is like this, lying about, wondering what it is you shall do with your time. you cannot decide and it is that you should maybe fill your belly with something cold or warm, depending on the season, or that you may need to create some piece of art or prepare for the 9-5 job that is your sustenance. there is no indecision. it is a thing of falsity that masks itself in odd behaviors. you must be decisive, and you have it in you. to wake and make the best of that which you choose should exist.
a timely blizzard has made its way up the east coast and dumped piles of frozen beauty onto the streets and the rooftops of homes. Sunday morning was spent finishing the shoveling of yesterday's snow inflicted laziness. No one went to dance class, the studio was closed. I came back to the city and snowshoed about with a friend. We clamored about at La Colombe and watched a particular NY times reader read each section and fold it indiscriminately. We watched young babies swaddled in wintery clothes sit with dad at the rickety window table and ask questions about the wonders of the world. i took off the wrist watch that i don't have and wrote down some select salutations in a letter to a friend whom I haven't seen in almost two years.
It's leading me to discuss the importance of meeting, drinking coffee, and breaking bread with friends on Sunday mornings. The art of doing nothing is an art which I have succeeded in successfully partaking. Sitting and letting the sun warm the bones through cafe windows. Walking with each foot following after the other like one does breathe. But we have projects and jobs and degrees to achieve and when we leave each other for individual advancement it seems strange to me that we do not work together towards something prosperous. Our survival in these times constitutes a vicious need to be isolated and pursuing our own pursuits. If we do not, we will be lost in the shuffle and drown in the movement is the energy of the city. So I say, "I am doing this, or I am doing that and it is of great importance". And it is of great importance if it sets your soul ablaze or if it makes you live more heartily. Just do not do because you feel you must do by the rhythm of external sources. Take your time, young thing. Life is long (they said it was short) but these lazy afternoons stretch it about like taffy eaten at a picnic on the seaside.
Oh a picnic at the seaside sounds nice.
The song of the day is a piece by Brahms: Piano Concerto no. 1 in D Minor, Op. 15- 2nd Adagio.
Listen. Go the cafe ten minutes before it closes and they start turning off the lights as you sit down to reach a conclusion. So you keep your sweater wrapped tightly and consider that there will not be any conclusion today, nor tomorrow, but you keep doing that which makes you feel alive.
She was wearing a red coat. curdled blood in the snow. there was a creek that wound in accordance with the etchings of pi. your room took on a different shade of pleasantry and chaos.
Lesson learned today: it is of great importance that you communicate your plans. the hour of your arrival. the time of your departure. if I say to meet you at 2:30, I arrive 2:35--just late enough so that you know I couldn't find the appropriate shade of lipstick for the afternoon.
always. keep. your. engagements. (make them few)
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With admiration for Sunday's sweet solitude.
dearest.
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