Hello darling, spent the day trolling through
& responding to a couple of CL posts
and deciphering pagehits here
trying to figure out who they were from

"stelllllaaaa blog" - that made me laugh so hard!
I surmised that was from Mr. North Fifth Street
yes, I definitely thought of you yesterday while I was at (p.m.)
and that wonderful, magical, weird evening I spent with you
thanks again for letting me crash
in your exquisitely appointed bedroom
with the view of aligned Christmas trees
out the small, deep-cased window
oh my -- such images are etched in my mind!

"przyjdziesz w upalny, skwarny dzień"
now that I imagine, would be from you darling --
oh I wish

"for emily wherever sheet music" - also from you maybe -
very discreetly?

"woodstock bird" -- not sure

"Cotopaxi 1862" -- Civil War, of the mind, or any other kind
that brings to mind 1.0 - that's my vibe - but I don't know

or perhaps they're all quite random

now there is one absolutely unambiguous one
that I got from Finland
my friend's name -- which prompted me to dash off a note to him
that was overdue on my part --

***
Sweetheart, so little to report tonight. I feel achey today, for some reason. Actually I felt fine, then lay down in late afternoon for twenty minutes, felt a little woozy/achey after that, and the feeling still persists. Ah, nothing major. Though I wish I knew the source...

Yes, it's a funny thing indeed to be answering personals on an important anniversary. But something has broken, at least I'm feeling a bit energized to try to reach out, somehow. I told D yesterday evening, that that is what I am trying to do now, in some way. I mean, I guess we both feel bad that things have come to this pass. He did put his arms around me today, first time in a very long time, in commemoration I'm sure of the day, and I returned the hug, but I didn't really feel it, not in that way that he & I had once very very joyfully had. I wish - maybe, or on some theoretical level - that I could get it back -- if only because it would make life, for both of us, so much simpler. It took a long while for us to get to this pass -

and I was in love, and loved him - until I didn't, couldn't anymore
there reached a tipping point, or a breaking point
and then for me there was no return
I knew it was coming too -- I could see it
and I remember mentioning to him, several years ago
if I lose it -- I don't know (and I truly didn't, it wasn't a threat, more an apprehension of foreboding) that I'm going to be able to get it back

Anyway, darling, I'm glad I don't have to send you a photo of myself
you know just what I look like & seem to love me - anyway?
well now - that didn't come out right
And I have to say - you're so utterly handsome & charming in person --
but maybe some photos (not that I've seen so many)
don't do you full justice either --
I wonder why that is, why some people are more photogenic than others?

Oh sweetheart --- holding your hands tight
across a tiny votive-lit table
in a cozy, charming, low-key winebar in town
I'll be there, in my finery, no makeup, waiting for you

Przyjdziesz...?

many, many kisses

Hello sweetheart, past dusk, well into the gloaming, it's about to be night. I'm back from a pleasant afternoon out. I drove down to Rhinebeck, we were out of bread and there's a wonderful bakery there with artisanal breads, and I had a half-price certificate. Future breakfasts will include organic rye, Catskill multigrain, raisin-walnut levain, and - though I requested a mere baguette, sheafs of which stood in a large basket - the clerk tucked into my bag a special one - twisted into a heart-shape for Valentines Day. Awww!

How are you, my sweet?
Are you 'hanging in there?,' as I sometimes rhetorically ask my cats. I thought of you all day. I went to church this morning - rushed over there really, I was quite late. I had opened an email account for myself the other day, and realized only today that despite my best efforts to try to anonymize myself, I had done the opposite - my real name blared out in outgoing messages. Ah, no harm done, it's okay, but I did want to adjust that, be "belle12534" as I had fully intended, but had a hard time figuring out how to fix it, and spent too much time this morning on it, to the point that I had to sprint into the shower & into my clothes & though the church is just down the road D had to drop me off. I mean, I can't be late - the future organist must be seen as reliable (even if privately wacky).

The R gave a very moving sermon... she is the 'real deal,' in terms of her calling, and work she does among the sick and dying... today she talked about her long ministering to AIDS victims, in light of readings about lepers. Anyway, I'm just glancing on this, to give you a bit of flavor of my day. At communion I approached, for my first time there, the altar with the rest of the sparsely scattered congregation, knelt, and folded my arms as she had suggested I do, and so I didn't take communion, but did receive her blessing, which was so sweet and warmly given that I suddenly felt quite emotional and tears welled up. Ah, it's okay... it was a nice moment... and I'm glad it meant something to me, and to her - I don't know... it was quite powerful, and simple, and sweet, all at once. And then I returned to my seat. Let me get the butterfly-emotional tears out of the way now, so that I can be stoic organist in future weeks!

Then I came home, fiddled with my email account a bit more, figured out how to fix it, and so now I'm comfortably anonymized. So great was my relief - that bit of agenda over - that I stripped from my Sunday best, new boots included, turned up the heat, and had a wonderful session with you, zip-drive version, somehow it went quicker than other times - do batteries derive extra juice from the charger being plugged in directly above the baseboard heating? Because it was awfully cold today, darling, so the heat was cranking...

Oh sweetheart, so then I stopped by the supermarket as ever looking for the guy I'd chanced to meet on Jan 2 and - much as I had predicted - have not glimpsed since. Ah well, no Adonis of the Utz chips, but I did do awfully well in the "mark-down" department, packages of salmon, organic chicken, russets, at 35-40 percent off.

Oh darling, I'm going to fast-forward from all that boringness and say that I'm still dressed (that is, I got dressed again - afterward) and am back from having yet another elegant glass of wine in a thin tall-stemmed glass - a dry minerally Spanish white, again, this time at a wonderful tiny wine bar in town. You would love it, I'm sure. It's at street level, in a 19th century storefront, all cozily lit with numerous votive candles, an enormous antique mirrored bar on which the drinks menu is scrawled. I sat at the bar and regarded myself, and truly -- look if someone has unique tastes, an absolute type he is going for, then fine -- I can understand that, it's totally okay with me. But I have to say (and I don't mean to sound like some strange Narcissus staring into a pool) that though I have never been a classic, even-featured beauty -- far from it -- the person I saw reflected back in the mirror - I'm sure I looked very nice. Over the last three-and-a-half years I have undergone a transformation, lost a ton of weight - I really don't know how much, but I have dropped a number of sizes --

I have grown into myself, into my looks
I really have
and maybe I'm not even done yet

I glanced at snapshots of myself from a few years ago
and realized how much I had just "lost the way"
but that's not true anymore
no, I'm a goodlooking - handsome? (I'm not sure what that means sometimes) woman - definitely height-weight-proportional

I'm just starting to figure out the craigslist acronyms --
did I mean HWP?
I had to google "420"
oh, okay, that code - I was never interested in that
I still don't know what BBW is

I enjoyed my glass of wine at the bar
thinking of you, darling, you would have enjoyed it
and regarding myself too
on the eve of a major anniversary
I thought about how 25 years ago tonight
our Union Street apartment was full of
a few family members and friends, our closest relations
we were getting married the following morning, at City Hall
which we did

and that night we flew off to London on our honeymoon
and I remember looking out the window
as the jet approached Heathrow
no - before that even
after we had finished crossing the wide Atlantic
and it was dawn over - Ireland?
some greenscape
(not Tahiti)

at (p.m.) in the background
as the proprietor arranged glassware
checked his Mac
sang under his breath along to, seemed to know all the lyrics to
all the songs that came on
Sting sang about fields of barley...

Smooth

Back from town, stopped at my favorite local Swoonery for a glass of wine. Sat at the long stylish blond wood bar. No classy (and flirtatious) guys at all there, bummer. I should have put a note in Craigslist that I'd be stopping by, and I just might have too, if I knew how to work my cellphone, or get Craigslist to accept my darn phone number already. What is a staid married woman bustin to break out to do? Oh sweetheart, so I had a nice time with myself, sipping my glass of delicious cool Spanish rioja, dreaming of you, dancing in my seat a bit to the club-beat music on in the background, fiddling with my freshly trimmed brunette shoulder-length hair that my hairdresser approvingly noted has highlights in it, possibly an effect of my daily walks in all weather, including winter sun, thinking of you, wishing you were seated next to me on a barstool, and I would have asked you - with reference to a large painting above the bar, of a zaftig maiden, reclining in a posy-strewn field of blue, hat clapped on her head, unsmilingly staring at I suppose the painter, her breasts large, thighs gargantuan, legs folded beneath her, not sexual really at all, more very Columbia County "sustainable agriculture" kind of chaste painterly cheesecake - who's thinner, me or her, and the correct - and wholly accurate answer would have been - me. And not only because I tried on a pair of pants today -- and have dropped a size! - and bought a slinky tee in XL... for a size 14 (at 5'6") I'm looking pretty - well, maybe not slinky, but like -- in resume terms -- I "have something to offer"

Oh sweetheart, how are you? I know you're aching to bust out too, I wish we could do so together. I felt like dancing with you this afternoon, was forced to dance by myself, at the wheel, as I drove back home. An awesome song came on, one of my favorites -- I'm not a good dancer, not on a dance floor, but that song just makes me want to move. It's so sensuous. Also it made me want to do other things, with you...

Oh darling, I bet you're just amazing... you looking so buttoned up and conservative all the time... oh I wish I could just get you in the front seat of a car doing 30 and let it rip...

Silliest post ever, darling. Hope you're having a wonderful time wherever you are. Love you. I dream about you all the time, and fantasize, and not just in church. Oh my word.

Let me speed-dial you from my barstool at the Swoonery. Darling are you there? Come over here and park your beautiful handsome wry awesome self next to me and let's surreptitiously touch legs under the counter while you buy me another glass of that Spanish white. I'm glad one of us works for a living -- that elixir is $10 a glass...

Ah, but telling about it, and all my wondrous kisses for you --- free, free, free---

Female Cyrano

Darling, do I need to invest in an airbrushed professional portrait, instead of willynilly sending out any old snapshot of Cyrano me? I am not for the random Craigslist world, I learned. I answered a personal yesterday, first time ever in my life - I don't know what prompted me - yes I do, a whole series of events, a concatenation. A nice game of online table tennis ensued - until trading of pix time. He went first. He's very goodlooking, undeniably, plus photogenic. I can't say that he was my type -- and he didn't hesitate to let me summarily know same when I managed to scrounge a couple of recent images of me -- but one recognizes handsome looks, though I can't say that that's what motivates me, so much. That's not what had attracted me to him - it was his 'voice' online. And I explained that I am quite sure that I look better in person (when I apply myself to go out, especially) than in any photos. I think he was looking for another "model" beauty - as he is - no I was never that. Maybe I shouldn't have quipped "Slavic Venus" in reference to myself, when he said in his ad that he prefers busty, voluptuous, & curvy. Well, darling, I am all that - am I not? Though possibly I was thinking more Slavic Venus figurine. Well what do you want from a 52-year old? Who was he expecting -- Vera Farmiga? And besides -- she's thin & petite, even if she does have long legs. If "Tom" is reading this -- and if looks really are, in your heart of hearts (or whatever part) that paramount to you -- then, please, ask for a photo sooner -- before I've done so much typing, and sharing --

Ah, I'll get over it darling, of course I will, I just got a bit singed playing with matches for the first time in 25 years. (That very anniversary, this weekend.)

You know, love, sometimes I wonder about you -- the uncanny Portrait of Dorian Gray page hit - was that your commentary - sandwiched in between his looking up the blogpost in which I'd included a quick snapshot of myself -- followed by, mere minutes later, another pagehit (from you?) of Branwell, effaced behind the pillar? You know, sometimes I just can't help but string a short rebus-like narrative from coincidences such as that (these were the only hits that registered the entire day, and came within moments of each other). That somehow you were aware of his images, and of mine -- and "Dorian Gray" was your astute assessment... and the inevitable happened, verdict returned, and with a cursory note I was handed the rejection slip

it was harsh
whatever his fine looks - I fault him on lack of finesse

but then your Branwell hit came, dearest, as though, from behind a pillar, you're always there for me, looking out for me

call me an utter heathen but when I went into the church for an hour or so to work through some of the hymns, I shed a few hot tears (like fitful, fleeting dashes of rain on a torrid summer day), and while - particularly considering the setting where I was - this venerable ancient old church that sometimes seems haunted - and not necessarily by You-Know-Who (His Presence, presumably a Given) - but by strange noises - a cat miaowing, a woman's soprano voice singing as I play organ, a door slamming shut at the back of the church - when I'm there by myself

perhaps I should have offered a prayer, or thanks, or asked for help from the more obvious entity to acknowledge in that setting

instead all I could do, as I sat at on the wood bench of the organ,
all by myself in that still, strange, lovely church

was to think of you dearest
and utter your name a few times - your real one, that is
and then - out loud - at one point, simply exhale
Branwell, Branwell -- thank you

***

to Pune,
Maharashtra,
India at 11:47 a.m. - thank you

to Grand Rapids,
Michigan,
United States at 11:56 - thank you




***

Albany,
New York,
United States at 11:50








***

***
images:
Cyrano de Bergerac (1619-1655)

Boris Olshanskiy (1956, Russian), Slavic Venus, 2007, oil on canvas, 31.5 x 26.4 in. (link here)

A beautiful springlike day here, wondering if the bulbs are popping up where you are, because supermarkets here are starting to be filled with tulips, and with daffodils.

I just love the stained glass window surrounds in the church -- aren't they wonderful? - fecund imagery in brown & orange, reminiscent of bulbs sprouting from the earth - I'd love to know more about the origin of this artistry....

[Moments pass... the church is on the National Historic Register and I just tried looking it up - but gave up, not instantly retrievable, it seems... another time...]

Oh sweetheart, I have a sense of maybe just maybe springtime coming

Got in 2-1/2 of the triathlon, not quite hitting the mark. Practiced again today on the church organ. I would say that the only hymn so far that truly doesn't work on it is He's Got the Whole World In His Hands. Ouch. All the other straight-up hymns are just fine. And I had fun ripping through very badly the little I could recall of Bach's Toccata & Fugue -- you would know it instantly if you heard it -- it's sort of mad & macabre (was it in Phantom of the Opera? - I never saw any version but wouldn't be surprised). It's great fun to try to play on organ though, the instrument it's intended for. And then, just for fun, I hammered out a couple of Bach inventions - again, very badly, so many mistakes - but it reminded me of how much I have always enjoyed polyphonic music, different lines weaving in & out, very conversationally. I say this and this and this and this.... and you respond thus and thus and thus and thus ..... and then we interweave those lines -- and add a question -- an interrogatory -- followed by a response -- and then an aha! ... so that's what you meant by that.... and an aside -- that suggests another expository line.... followed by - I know just what you mean and here's how it was for me ---

that's what those inventions have often been like for me -- conversations -- lively dialogues -- in abstract, archetypal form --- very engaging, exciting - fun to play

Dearest Branwell
effaced behind your column
I wish you & I could play in just that way
together

wherever
I am
there you are
my moon
my sun
have a wonderful day darling -
til later

my view
looking upward

as I'm seated
at the organ


***
Hello darling, I hope all is well with you & happy. I wonder where you are, and my vibe is that you're stateside - but I don't take it too seriously - or wonder too hard - against gaslighting - whatever, I know you're always with me, wherever you are

I'm feeling a little faded just now, also a bit scattered. And hungry. Though lunch was delicious -- a salad composed of organic mixed greens, roast beet, walnuts, crumbled blue cheese, leftover roast turkey, dressed with balsamic vinaigrette. But that was hours ago. I managed a trifecta. Oh honey, I get louder & louder. What am I going to do when the warm weather comes? And so I admit I've been trying to look into other options -- I mean how am I supposed to get out of my situation? Which, by the way, I - I don't think confessed is the right word, it wasn't so formal - but told the R. yesterday. She & I met yesterday and talked, and the two of us, it seems to me, are amazingly simpatico. And I suppose really that's all I can say, but I was amazed at how very freely I felt able to share even some admittedly ambiguous aspects of myself, such as the fact of this blog, and its nature. Anyway, it was the most amazing conversation - incredibly wideranging, freewheeling, treating of all sorts of subjects. I told her - I felt so uncomfortable! - about D - and she asked, in her professional role, if we wished counseling and I was very inarticulate and said no, that at this point I wished --- anyway, she couldn't have been more kind. And I was able to tell her too that I was un-used to formal religion at this point, though I consider myself to be spiritual, that I felt uncomfortable about taking communion - not if I'm not 'fully there' with it. And she said that's okay - just come up, and cross your arms - she demonstrated what I should do, folding her arms across her chest - and I'll know what that means, and I'll just give you a blessing. And I said - with great relief - I will be very happy, and very comfortable to do that, I didn't even know it was an option. It was all really quite an extraordinary hour - it could almost have been a play - these two women, of completely different - cloths - conversing so frankly & so freely within the confines of this ancient beautiful church, that the two of us had to ourselves, as we went over the 'stage directions' as it were, of when I would come in, when the time comes... because I've been having anxiety dreams about it, a bit - messing up. Anyway -- it couldn't have been more wonderful.

And today I practiced, sat down for the first time, the place to myself, at the organ, and went through - or halfway through - a long list of hymns for me to become acquainted with, some of which fortunately I already am. I'm a quick study that way, as far as reading sheet music. The organ itself though is much more elusive & challenging. I really don't know about the stops, and how to negotiate two "manuals," that is keyboards -- let alone foot pedals. I ended up, today, just playing one of the manuals -- the lower one, as though it were a piano. And even as I sight-read my way through some new hymns, at times haltingly so as I tried to work out chords, I thought the music sounded credible -- though at times, I admit, I was put in mind of organ swells, signaling that stakes are large & building, at the old Yankees or Mets Stadiums...

Hi sweetheart. I wish we could make it work somehow. Oh well this is it. Love you. xoxo

***
w4m
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