The ocean is a common location- a notorious place of retreat and epiphany. But maybe instead of its vastness as the means for the world's infatuation, it is the company we find in our fellow sand-walking friends. For, even if we knew all of them by heart before, aren't we freshly introduced as the waves come crashing down? Aren't we all new to each other- our intrigue like a spark for our mutual kindness and words. Or maybe it's that we all come together- each of us alone in searching, but together in good company while the waves keep crashing down.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
at the beach.
I feel like human life is simple here at the foot of the ocean. Complexity- like the individual grains of sand- is not so unheard of. It becomes generalized here so that life can be comparatively easy and comparatively solved. The sand together is a solid surface - but at the root, a sensitive structure just waiting for the blue water to break. If we don't all think just exactly the same when we stand face-to-face with the ocean, we all feel a sort of familiar feeling. Maybe a solidarity or a subtle understanding of our evolution to these two feet. But it's more of an a priori heart wrench: something under-described, barely explored- but for the abstract quality of its behavior. Shared reverence for something stronger. Combined knowledge of mystery. A very humble fortune of thought and gratitude- an unspoken sadness- the mist condensing into tears running down our cheeks. Our hair matted and salty on the tops of our heads- the clouds thick and shrouded above. All of our own lives at the tips of our tongues, but something unearthly in our attempt to look past all that for a less defined clarity. Maybe peace at heart.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
A
My life stories are happening faster than my life.
Little happened. But I'm so good at remembering.
from Janathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
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