i have always liked old people. i am mesmorized their gruff but fragile voices, i like how they all know a little bit about everything and they will always tell you, but with voices that lull you to a stance so quiet that you can't help but sit in silence while listening. i especially like the way they smell. Older women always have the best perfume, it comes with the territory, but even the natural eau de vieux can be calming, they smell like people. Even the most crabby old person can be darn charming if i stare at them long enough until they start smiling at me, almost like a baby, and then they do the same in return. plus, like a baby they know the joy of living in the moment, at least that's is what i sense, but i am sure there is still that inner anxiety, stress, heartbreak. it is just not as apparent, except in the eyes. When i first moved to minneapolis my best friend was a 60 year old man from bike club named dave. there was never any judgement or competition in our friendship and everything i said seemed to make a lot more sense when i said it to him, and whenever i determine how i feel about a person it's not about that other person, but rather how i feel when i am around that person. dave and i moved apart, but i still remember his gigantic gray eyebrows. This past week i have spent lounging in the sun in scottsdale arizona. I have spent my afternoons at the pool with all the other snowbirds...mostly circa 1939 and older. i am loving it because of their happiness and lovey-ness, but mostly what i love is after an elder has been sitting or standing in a spot for a while and then leave, i go and sit or stand where they were and can still feel their energy and spirit, which has worked hard, been around, seen a lot, but is as well, ready to take it slow.
05 February 2009
ol' folks
i have always liked old people. i am mesmorized their gruff but fragile voices, i like how they all know a little bit about everything and they will always tell you, but with voices that lull you to a stance so quiet that you can't help but sit in silence while listening. i especially like the way they smell. Older women always have the best perfume, it comes with the territory, but even the natural eau de vieux can be calming, they smell like people. Even the most crabby old person can be darn charming if i stare at them long enough until they start smiling at me, almost like a baby, and then they do the same in return. plus, like a baby they know the joy of living in the moment, at least that's is what i sense, but i am sure there is still that inner anxiety, stress, heartbreak. it is just not as apparent, except in the eyes. When i first moved to minneapolis my best friend was a 60 year old man from bike club named dave. there was never any judgement or competition in our friendship and everything i said seemed to make a lot more sense when i said it to him, and whenever i determine how i feel about a person it's not about that other person, but rather how i feel when i am around that person. dave and i moved apart, but i still remember his gigantic gray eyebrows. This past week i have spent lounging in the sun in scottsdale arizona. I have spent my afternoons at the pool with all the other snowbirds...mostly circa 1939 and older. i am loving it because of their happiness and lovey-ness, but mostly what i love is after an elder has been sitting or standing in a spot for a while and then leave, i go and sit or stand where they were and can still feel their energy and spirit, which has worked hard, been around, seen a lot, but is as well, ready to take it slow.
01 February 2009
optimistic pile of books
during the next month i have to abandon my beloved condo for several weeks while my ceilings are dropped, aired out and replaced with new insulation, water-proofing and drywall. i will move out all my cherished knick-knacks, doodly-dads, what-nots and brick-a-brack, leaving most my furniture alone here to stand up for itself. it's been liberating to clean out everything and make multiple donation drop-offs at the salvation army...especially since to begin with i don't really have that much stuff. except i do have a lot of books. somehow they multiply. i think there has been book-love going on, which i totally support and encourage, but regardless of what is going on under the covers i don't know what to do with them all. i really do love some more than others, the funny, intelligent,witty ones are my favorites. The books that i open, read the first page and go "i could have written that" well, i. i have to draw the line, i can't keep you all, i am not going to read you unless i am forced to by book club...even then it's a toss up. so here they sit on my table. the hardest decision of this whole transitional moving process has been to keep them, hope they grow on me enough to read them. or is it another trip to the goodwill? this would be easier if they just didn't look so cute stacked on my table.
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