| Chapter 2: | Aquamarine Spring |
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talking about ethnicity). She said the distance to travel back was too far to cover in one life-time. I didn't understand. She said only the greatest love could fly that expanse. Maybe she was talking about distance in terms of time, geography, seasons, and culture. She was a mail-order bride full of stories I couldn't understand and it wasn't just a language barrier.
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March 29
I'm beginning to associate the negative with “sabbatical.” Why did you have to plan on going so far away!
By the way, your last email made me smile. Now I know I'm not just a mouse following my Pied Piper! Also, why would you want to spend more time talking to me in a semi-intoxicated state? Is the unguarded me easier and smoother around the edges? Do you feel you can have your way with me when I've had a few drinks? Ha, ha! Maybe being in that state is being in the inbetween, only half lucid, free.
I'm touched by the deepness of reading work written by people I know. I just spent all morning reading your work online. Thank you. You are an amazing wordsmith. I'm so intrigued. I imagine watching you create a paper—mapping you in some way so that I could see the art unfolding like watching an artist paint something into being. Reading you online is almost voyeuristic, an unpeeling of surprises. I consciously feel myself readjusting my conception of you the more I read. At the same time, I'm conscious that it is text and I realize that it has been manipulated. Your written work is a great record of your feelings about the world, an unsaid autobiography of influences and observations, and an explicit visual of how you render—a gift that holds the past of you in it.