And saw one of my oldest & dearest friends, before she finishes moving to Switzerland. How we talked, cried, & laughed together!
Almost March & still barely any snow. So I went to see a movie called Arctic. It's man vs. the elements & I drank in that white landscape. I don't know that any of my friends (except the one who most shares my snow obsession) would much like it but I was satisfied.
In reality, every reader, while [s]he is reading, is the reader of his[sic] own self. The writer's work is merely a kind of optical instrument, which [s]he offers to the reader to permit him[sic] to discern what, without the book, [s]he would perhaps never have seen in him[sic]self. The reader's recognition in his[sic] own self of what the book says is the proof of its truth.
~ Marcel Proust, Le temps retrouvé
quoted by Ruth Ozeki in her wonderful & puzzling Tale for the Time Being
We had hot ideas but none of us were good enough musicians to execute them. After Bob Holman—the only person who didn't flee from our first gig—told us we should try not to look startled if we all ended a song together, that's mostly what we practiced.
Everyone was in a band that year (1979).
Definitely sparking a little contentment to have spent an hour cleaning my desk & throwing out lots of crap. It's maybe not enough for most people, but I'm good.
My reward for agreeing to a meeting way the hell uptown? This beautiful scene in Central Park after a day of gentle snow.
Maybe they're right, those people who think birthdays are for kids. Mine was certainly enhanced by the participation of these two young people, who taped a banner to the stairwell to surprise me when I came over, made (sweet! yikes!) cupcakes in festive colors, & gave me two pairs of fun socks. That kind of birthday joy has worn off for me (a little!), but I got some of the magic back this afternoon.
I'm not a huge fan of Yeats but it's my birthday &, well, here it is. This is from a 1936 letter to the younger poet Dorothy Wellesley:
Gogarty once describd the wit & phantasy of a friend of his calld Tancred (who was he declared a descendant of the Crusader of that name). I knew him once, he had just been received into the Catholic Church. The ceremony over, some priest asked what had led him to th truth & Tancred said "I was in the Brompton Oratory & I saw on a tablet 'Pray for the soul of Elinor de Vaux' & I thought the name so beautiful that I wantd to gain the privilege of praying for her."
Simehow, whenever I bolt out of the house early and do my grocery shopping (& today I also defrosted the freezer), i seem to have to lie down & sleep for the rest of the day. That’s where it’s at, friends. Also, I’m writing this letter by letter on my phone, just to see if I can do it. I can but will go back to using all my fingers next time. Zzzzzzzzz...........