I miss painting. I miss working with my hands. I miss a lot of things that were in my life everyday a few months ago. And all of the details, the coincidences, the music I see and hear in another person, the awe and wonder I find in their heart...the coincidental photos and big smiles, the friendly banter. Sometimes, it doesn't matter, because they don't see me seeing it or they don't see how much it matters that I see it...the compatibility of two souls, hoping for it, longing and pining for it while the other person is getting on with their life, maybe doing the same, but for someone else.
I think one reason why I'm at such a wall, is because I don't have the
time to mold, scratch, smooth, lift, sculpt, and sketch these reasons,
people, feelings, and memories.
...the heart does, actually, ache
from trying to push beyond
itself, this room, the world,
all that can be imagined;
space is not enough space
for its sudden immensity...
- January Afternoon, with Billie Holiday by Lisel Mueller