Today, our Tuesday, will prove a lengthy day in Paree for moi e mon mari. Midnight is the nearest hour to insight on news from across the pond.
For me, personally, all is calm and content. Sleep gives me 8 hours each night, uninterrupted, which is unusual but beautiful. I know not why. Work, petite but complete sessions, separate from mon mari, Writing? Pour etre. Completion of cycles, circles, no longer concentric, c'est bien.
My birthday came on cue; pure luxe, decadent and longish luncheon w/Robere at 'brasserie lipp', the most divine slice of sublime gastronomy along st germain environs...
Next day, Halloween, always a fave, fond memories of birthday parties spent trick or treating with childhood chums, filling pillow cases, finishing first. I boast many pieces of joy from then, not to mention 13 cavities by time I was 12.
Power walks along Luxembourg gardens and Pilate's machine balance it all out; I caught the craze long before there was one, being the original back brace girl, but kind dancer friends made the introduction to Herr Joseph, we fell in luv....I'm still quite crooked but can now crack each piece of my 45 year old body sans tedious appt w/ chiroguy.
Then comes All Saints Day, then All Souls day, my personal fave. Europe partakes. As do I.
Unlike past years, hanging out in Italian cemeteries, honouring the deceased, this year we stayed home, kept quiet, lit candles, thought of Muv; assimilation complete.
I've always found death curious, deeply interesting, the dark side, sometimes it's a bit too morbid for mio marito, but then, he can't even handle watching anyone get hurt on screen, unless its fantasy genre. Then, bring on the blood and gore.
A wonderful evening in front of the flat screen watching long version of Exorcist, spider walk et al, no, he's not havin it, instead we get Kung Fu Panda. This is what I watch when he's gone, or other movies made prior to my birth.
But my reverence for the dead bodes well, for me, my philosophy; this life aint a dress rehearsal.
I've lost many friends. During my drag show days I spent many nights visiting performers w/AIDS, back then, there wasn't so much hope. I've lost 2 to breast cancer but there's hope for those diagnosed today.
I've watched people die. I get it, live like a hedonist, for as long as possible.
However, this philosophy slipped away, almost in unison, with this election. Nomadic stressed out husband, misreading motives, others, challenging, me, not as focused as I could be...though now, we see one another in sharp focus, perfectly drawn outlines, filled in, forgiving in spirit, the kind of naked beauty that makes one laugh and we two laugh a lot. Again.
Per usual, we buck the trend. While the collective consciousness of the world experiences their dark funk, we've beaten them to the punch.
The original recipe for a business venture was perfect, unfortunately, the ingredients were sour, wilting and in some cases, quit rancid. Now, the chef has re visited said recipe, improvised ever so slightly, fresh new ingredients avail at the market, ripe and smell just fine. The pieces now prove willing to complete the puzzle, effortlessly, with attention and consensus.
Then, the delivery guy arrives early this morning, and voila, inside I see that my most cherished epistolary friend has sent a painting, of me. I blush, wondering where it might live, why I even inspire.
I'd wanted Muv to paint me, but she wanted the formal sit down, proper photo shoot, I wasn't willing to fuss, then forward. In the end, I don't think she could paint me, I was too well drawn, to her, already.
But here I hold such a portrait, a fantasy, sent from such a talent, Caro Ianesco, much published, his artistic expression showing concept of color intact and inspired. This petite piece is part of a larger one, to be showcased in SoCal, will blog about that later.....
His dream scape re-creates me, wrapped in Issey Miyake, circa last summer in Malta, contemplative, pondering what the future could bring into our complicated lives...encore, if recent events, gifts and paradigm shifts mean anything, it simply articulates what Muv suggested after the worst, first and last time I fell off the tracks in such fashion, so many moons ago, so timely, inspiring the last line of the novel,
"The longest route out is the shortest road home..."
Alas, I hate the wait, but the anticipation is so parfait...
You inspire because you are palpably, shimmeringly, bristlingly, artfully, jubilantly ~genuine~.
My dear, that is rare indeed. Light sees Light. And no mistake.
Posted by: Ianesco | November 05, 2008 at 13:46