Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Dear love, up in the aerie - the upstate one... I took this shot around this hour the other evening, in Brooklyn. The lighting at that moment reminded me so much of La Bonne Aventure, by Magritte. And so this is the city version.

Dearest, I yearn too, it's ceaseless. But here I am. I'm glad to be back home. I'm exhausted. I had a wonderful time, but I'm not a great traveler, now I feel sort of between two worlds. I could never be a "weekender," employed in the city and dividing my time. I don't think my head could handle it.

I'm happy to be home for the comforts of the physical space, the familiarity. We're friendly, but I wasn't asked how my weekend went. But I'm appreciative, he funded it, stayed in a vacant apartment in town so as to work, dropped me off & picked me up at the train station. Before even going home I suggested he make a left turn, instead of the right to our house - so that we could get voting out of the way. I knew that once I set foot in the house I wouldn't wish to go back out for any reason. So - glad that's out of the way, dearest Absentee.

Really, this is just by way of checking in, my love (well - when isn't it?). It has been extraordinarily mild today - perhaps even in the low eighties in Brooklyn. I set out on an errand this morning (buying 'thank-you' flowers - fragrant yellow freesias - for our friends) dressed in sweater layers that turned out to be way too warm. So I changed to a tee and light cashmere sweater.

Our friends enjoyed their stay up here, and left me a lovely little gift of an Indian embroidered decorative pillow cover, white-on-white, like a ghostly herbarium, flowers etched, form and field all in white, like E.D.'s dress...

Darling, I think of you. There it is. Who could possibly understand it? It defies explaining. Nobody gets it except those of us in it. It's hard, in some ways, there's no trying however gingerly to explain it to someone else. But you know? I choose this, I do, despite its complexities, and ambiguities - and on the most surface level - its pure simplicities.

Our friends seem very happily married, they've been together for aeons too. They left us a paper dinner menu - their way of wordlessly leaving a sign as to how they had spent a bit of their time. It's the same restaurant where once in a while I take myself out to brunch. I'm glad to have the paper menu to study. So the white wine I enjoy is 2009 Marques de Irun Verdejo, Spain... 11/34.

Dearest - fading at the moment - very many kisses.


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