These days I feel imperfectly balanced between steadfast awe - look at the trees outside my window! look at architecture! look at this functioning community! look at the warblers in the cypress in the park and the dogs wagwagging and the the blueblue sky and kahlua mocha fudge ice cream! look at how he loves me! - and my old creeping despair. Look at the cement, stretching on forever. Look at the racism bubbling in my own mind. Look at the fear.
I haven't made my peace with the city yet. Suggestions?
I haven't made my peace with the city yet. Suggestions?
not love the city? does not compute...
how else can one make peace with a city other than love it for what it is and not project one's expectations or desires upon it? no place is perfect; there are no utopias or ideal places. or maybe there are, i don't know, but i don't think massive multicultural cities founded on migrant labor and luck are going to be them. i suppose one takes the good with the bad. be thankful that there are trees at all, and birds in them. appreciate that the architecture you like has survived this long.
but i know what you mean. i have similar marvellings (a word?) in my journal from paris-amazement that the city seeped into me so quickly, how swiftly one adapts to keeping one's head down, one hand on the handbag. i once even lied and told someone i didn't speak english. that really surprised me about myself.
nika
Posted by
Anonymous |
12/10/06 10:33
I am sitting here with my best friend, who is an entirely rational person. I read your post to him and he said, "Find the community. Find the best local watering hole. Go to the top of a hill."
I wish you the best.
Posted by
Anonymous |
13/10/06 22:26