My dearest, it's so mild today it feels like springtime. I took two walks today, the second in late afternoon with gold sun casting mellow light over the flat ridge road. It was around half-past three, but with the sun low and blazing in my eyes, I could sustain the illusion that it was late spring, around seven in the evening, sun about to set, and I imagined purloining branches of lilacs just now in bloom, or would be if it were May. It was nice to think of fragrant lilacs on the roadside blooming, their heady fragrance, reward for an overlong winter that hasn't so far (Halloween ice storm excepted) set in.
It's just as well, I like it here, but when it's mild. And yet I wouldn't wish to live in a permanently balmy clime. Although really - at this point I feel that I could live absolutely anywhere, as long as I had certain of the creature comforts I need. I'd live anywhere, with my true love, it wouldn't matter to me where anymore. It used to have mattered to me. I never could picture myself living in Alaska. And I suppose I still couldn't - but fortunately, I don't need to contemplate any such extreme place, as once I did.
Perhaps what's more important to me now is the luxury of time -- that I need in spades, in a day, to go about my days in the house for the most part at my leisure. As long as I could do that - have the (domestic) space & time to freely move around in, think in, then truly I don't think it would matter to me where I am.
And as far as the holiday season goes, I'm personally grateful for the mild weather, that distracts me from notions of the holidays, not my favorite time of year. In thinking about it I tend to almost hold my breath, as if under water, for it to pass. At this point there's only one thing I wish for from this holiday season, and that is to spend a few moments with you sometime during it, even if 'in a crowded room.' How little seems to sustain me - us - in that way - I'll be thrilled just to see you smiling at me... Actually I have all sorts of fantasies, but they hit hard obstacles right away, in each of the rooms. I wonder if it will even happen this year, at all, my coming down.
If I were to see young lovers - old or young, any true lovers at all - my thoughts towards them are - you are so very lucky to be together, in each other's presence, physically together. I have found it a very elusive phenomenon in my life... I picture you beaming at me because I burst out laughing at something amusing someone at the table said -- and I was so thrilled to see you look at me that way. And perhaps you cherish your own memories (I hope) of glances I'd steal towards you - did you see them? Yes, I'm sure you did.
And so dearest, it will be the Fourth of July in December if I get to see you... such is the topsy-turvy nature of my heart, and of the weather. On my walk today I thought about encountering you, perhaps pressing a token something into your hand (since I wouldn't be blogging that evening) as I put my arms around you and kiss you hello. Perhaps a tiny refrigerator magnet...
Roy Lichtenstein (1923-1997), Study for Kiss II, 1963, graphite, Allen Memorial Art Museum, Oberlin College, Ohio