I wanted to be free

Dora was not an easy read and I'm a bit relieved to have come through it. At the heart of it is a profound sadness but in the second half of the book it isn't at the forefront-perhaps mercifully so. Today I simply want words to wash over me, find something that doesn't trouble me, see what light can do.

I picked up Hass's book with that very title. Beautifully produced, and once again I'm wondering if beauty, art, poetry, friendship and love can redeem the sordid mess, bring a hint of sweetness to it, if not order. Sometimes one has to turn one's face away, aghast.

Today, more than anything, I wanted to be free from any deep thoughts, any reflection. Such a luxury is rarely afforded one nowadays and yet the other extreme-of plunging into the shallowness of the world head first- has never really been an option. Not out of choice, I daresay, but because my temperament and upbringing forbids it. And yet, without God what seriousness can there be? Are you just a clown after all, a high-minded clown?

"Why can't you see God?"

Little r asked: "Is He dead?" (all her references being to Mufasa and the Lion King).

"No, He is alive in heaven"

"Yes, he is watching over us like all the Great Kings".

The 'Harlequin speech' of the crazy on the street corners, the speechlessness of the tall flowers in the fields. Nothing is more important than keeping straight (Thomas Moore?). Down a road I know so well, comfort in the only life I knew. I'm no scholar and my words fall on empty ground. I lower my voice, trying to recall a dream from last night. A list, a set of lists. Books or colours piled up, about to topple, some secret arrangement. The patchwork heart.

Can you still make me out...are you still the same? We become invisible to ourselves with time. What I caught was a snowflake in my hand. Brought it inside and kept it in a ceramic bowl near the gas heater. There are many distances, but none like memory, none like love.

(words by Jules S.)