Monday, September 26, 2011

The heart does, actually, ache

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




1 comment:

  1. I agree with everything you said. Everything. I even got caught up on the same Lisel Mueller line the first time I read this poem, partially because I love Billie's song "Good Morning Heartache" and partially because I felt relief to see my own yet-expressed feelings put into words, if that makes sense.

    Let's get some supplies together and go paint in Patrick and Lauren's basement one day. That'll get your hands working again. (This is Simone, by the way, and I'm totally serious about this.)

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