Saturday, June 14, 2008

Provincetown 15

I slept late today and when I got up I made myself hot tea and got right to work. I took a break and had a light supper and then I took a short walk on the beach. The tide was coming in and there wasn't any firm sand to walk on. I passed a man on the beach who asked me about my hair. He was about my age, maybe older. He said, "Girl, how long did it take you to grow your hair out that way?"

I hesitated. I couldn't quite make out what he wanted. I'm not used to being in a strange town without my husband. I told him about twenty years. I kept walking and so did he. We were turned around talking, our feet still walking away from each other.

He said his hair was all the way down his back and then he cut his. He said he didn't know why. "I just passed this place and I did it," he said. We kept on walking. I did a hand gesture like "shame on you." I kept walking and so did he.

I said, "You shouldn't have done that."

He said, "I know." And then we were too far away to hear each other anymore.

The writing went well today. I'm anxious to get back to it.

I was sorry to see of Tim Russert's passing. I'll miss him.

Two days ago I bought Birkenstocks and painted my toenails.

May each of us live to see another day.


ggw07 said...

Very sad about Tim Russert.
On another note, both my mother and grandmother had hair flowing down their backs.
What color are your newly painted toenails? Had any linguine with clam sauce from fresh New England clams yet? Don't forget to nourish yourself in all ways. It will engergize your work.

Judith HeartSong said...

"Two days ago I bought Birkenstocks and painted my toenails.

May each of us live to see another day."


It is always a huge treat to here from you and I am so glad that the time is good and beneficial. You will grow more from these weeks perhaps than at any other time in your life.

I loved the conversation on the beach.... I, too, am very hesitant when I cannot make out peoples' motives and agendas, and somehow that conversation in walking away from each other will probably surface in your writing, I predict.

By the by, my favorite toenail colors are metallic cerulean blue and light spring green:)

Be well!



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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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