january journals

I had a lot of time to kill yesterday and I made a couple little journal entries in a new journal that I bought.

Here is the first one - very philosophical

The tree coming up in twisted branches, separating and reaching in two directions - then it decides as many living things do, to double back on itself, to change places. In doing so it may seem to some to lack direction but to me it is the essence of its beauty the assuredness of time spent alive, the faults and thorns and obstacles of life that make us bend with the wind and seek the light. The Beauty comes in the spaces we live in between all the certain things in life, and often, in spite of them.


And the second one - more fun, and hopeful, and silly.

The New Year has come and we all expected it but down in the cracks of my psyche I hear these words ‘twenty twenty’ and am impressed we have made it this far. It seems like such a huge numbered beast, out in its pajamas drinking champagne – something larger than we imagined with punk rock hair but still down to earth, not totally unfamiliar, as it was once described in our childhood.

We have found the monster from where the wild things are and set him down toast and juice and the morning paper, eyeglasses set upon his enormous nose as he tries to do the crossword with a tiny pencil. I imagine myself stealing glances at him through my eyelashes as I cut up my eggs and add more pepper to the tops. I am making sure I am not dreaming, and wondering about, honestly, how badly he will tear up the carpet in the rec room dancing to the Eighties Flashback or how long it will be before he puts out a knee going down the garden stairs carrying too much to the table.

Have we really gotten so old? Is it just that now we are more free to imagine these things give them names and take the risks to bring them nearer to everyday life than to the true fantasy? It is much funnier, when they are near to hand, and much more impactful, as well. In a morning still fading with the sounds of fireworks in my ears, I have let my imagination wander freely. And it is out there in the dining room fondling crystal paperweights and unfolding all of the guest towels with abandon. It is only a figurative guest, but one that brings a smile to my lips as the eggs cool and the coffee begins to sputter. And for this, I think that perhaps twenty twenty and I will get along, if we can just get past hitting our heads on the doorframes.