Oh yes. There is a continual yearning, an unfolding in this line (and in the whole piece). It feels like a kaleidoscope--ever shifting, the light and perspective ever-changing. I feel it in my bones.
Thank you Alix for sharing your words and photos from Paris!
''I spent most of today weeping and trying to understand this strange convergence of grief and gratefulness; the way we can hold what has been lost and know it, somehow, as gain.''
Oh how this resonates! Last September I was in the south of France with a friend; hubby and family stayed home...I was gone for 3 weeks! You've penned it so perfectly Alix! The grief of leaving a place after three weeks, where I felt so inspired and 'free'! And being grateful for the oppurtunity of staying at a friend's home and visiting beautiful places. (I still haven't written any poems about it all yet! I collaged a journal about it though!!)
This was such a joy to read and the photographs. Ugh, my heart, it felt like I went with you. Paris is divine! Loved the side-by-side image of 13 years ago. Time. How it moves us.
"Make peace with all the women you once were, lay flowers at their feet, offer them incense and honey and forgiveness..... For they are the bones of the temple you sit in now...."
It's all just.....gorgeous. All of it. Last weekend, I holed up in my attic, which means I was completely alone, during the days. The evenings I spent with my husband. It did help me recharge.
Photographing the ordinary. I was doing a photoshoot a few years ago, and I happened to snap one of the bathroom. In the photo my bath, in spite of its clutter, etc., seemed extraordinary, rich. I've noticed this before, how my somewhat shabby house is so interesting in photos, as though I'm looking into someone else's life.
Thank you for sharing these words and images, so inspiring. I hope to do a similar trip in the future, combining writing and Paris and maybe practicing a little French speaking as well. I resonate with the concept of all those lives awaiting their turn at the wheel. I have so many and they all involve poetry!
Yes, I have felt that dislocation of the re-entry to everyday life after an intense retreat experience. It almost makes you fear going. I recall that there is a wonderful verse of the Tao that talks about "do you have the ability to wait until the mud settles, and the water is clear? Until the right action reveals itself?" Maybe the old pilgrims who walked everywhere and lived austere, demanding lives, were onto something?
Alix, I love all of this. So much beauty. So much... everything. It's beautiful to be a complex human being who feels it all.
Also, I definitely relate to the disorientation of coming home too quickly from a different sort of life, as good as it might be to get back to your family, your seeds and your coffee. In 2019 I walked from Amsterdam to Berlin over the course of a month. After spending a few days in Berlin I took the train back, and it takes 6 hours. My brain that had been on this slow step by aching step journey couldn't comprehend that the same journey by train was completed in a fraction of a day. I still find it mind boggling to think about.
"I want to make a world I can live inside."
Oh yes. There is a continual yearning, an unfolding in this line (and in the whole piece). It feels like a kaleidoscope--ever shifting, the light and perspective ever-changing. I feel it in my bones.
Thank you so much, friend. That line really hit me when I wrote it ❤️❤️
Thank you Alix for sharing your words and photos from Paris!
''I spent most of today weeping and trying to understand this strange convergence of grief and gratefulness; the way we can hold what has been lost and know it, somehow, as gain.''
Oh how this resonates! Last September I was in the south of France with a friend; hubby and family stayed home...I was gone for 3 weeks! You've penned it so perfectly Alix! The grief of leaving a place after three weeks, where I felt so inspired and 'free'! And being grateful for the oppurtunity of staying at a friend's home and visiting beautiful places. (I still haven't written any poems about it all yet! I collaged a journal about it though!!)
It’s such a strange feeling! I’m feeling much more integrated now, but it’s like trying to overlap two images into one
Yes! Exactly! I looked at a photo my friend took of me there...I look different! (silly, isn't it?!)
No! My friend said the same thing to me on a video call! That I looked Parisian while I was there!!!
Hahahahah!! I know, right!!!!??
I’m sure Paris grieved when you left too, and it doesn’t even have to do any laundry.
Right?! Thank you! 😘
So so happy to have been a part of this magical experience with you!
Me too, my friend ❤️
Thank you for this beautiful post.
This was such a joy to read and the photographs. Ugh, my heart, it felt like I went with you. Paris is divine! Loved the side-by-side image of 13 years ago. Time. How it moves us.
So many versions of us in this one lifetime, reminded me of Emory Halls song, "I've been a thousand different woman". https://youtu.be/iORYwj_1zAw?si=VhINz5dCoF59epcj
"Make peace with all the women you once were, lay flowers at their feet, offer them incense and honey and forgiveness..... For they are the bones of the temple you sit in now...."
It's all just.....gorgeous. All of it. Last weekend, I holed up in my attic, which means I was completely alone, during the days. The evenings I spent with my husband. It did help me recharge.
Photographing the ordinary. I was doing a photoshoot a few years ago, and I happened to snap one of the bathroom. In the photo my bath, in spite of its clutter, etc., seemed extraordinary, rich. I've noticed this before, how my somewhat shabby house is so interesting in photos, as though I'm looking into someone else's life.
Thank you for sharing these words and images, so inspiring. I hope to do a similar trip in the future, combining writing and Paris and maybe practicing a little French speaking as well. I resonate with the concept of all those lives awaiting their turn at the wheel. I have so many and they all involve poetry!
Yes, I have felt that dislocation of the re-entry to everyday life after an intense retreat experience. It almost makes you fear going. I recall that there is a wonderful verse of the Tao that talks about "do you have the ability to wait until the mud settles, and the water is clear? Until the right action reveals itself?" Maybe the old pilgrims who walked everywhere and lived austere, demanding lives, were onto something?
Oh I love that, thank you for the image ❤️
Alix, I love all of this. So much beauty. So much... everything. It's beautiful to be a complex human being who feels it all.
Also, I definitely relate to the disorientation of coming home too quickly from a different sort of life, as good as it might be to get back to your family, your seeds and your coffee. In 2019 I walked from Amsterdam to Berlin over the course of a month. After spending a few days in Berlin I took the train back, and it takes 6 hours. My brain that had been on this slow step by aching step journey couldn't comprehend that the same journey by train was completed in a fraction of a day. I still find it mind boggling to think about.
Thank you, Sarah! It feels good to be understood in this space. I know it will pass and soon, but gosh, it’s a strange kind of ache ❤️