the other day (and I thought I already posted this, but as it turns out, I'm very glad I didn't) i was trying to study the 18th century British concept of the sublime. I found myself suddenly writing for an hour about inequality (be it gendered, racial or economic) and what in my miniscule knowledge of, well, anything, really, I tried to write what I thought should be done. Only, it turned out to be somewhat less-than pragmatic, and more wishful, romantic thinking of what might evolve as common understanding.
And after an hour of writing in such a light, I wrote for another half hour about how everything I'd just recorded was bullshit. Needless to say, a three hour break which hoped for research was one of the most productive to date. annd by 'productive' i mean you draw the bath...i'll get the blades. *
Today I found the scraps of paper on which I had hurriedly scribbled out passionate ideas and urgent sentiments and once again resumed the panic of not knowing how to save the world. It was not long before it was brought to my attention that my mom's uncle Jack died on my birthday, come to think of it, the same day as all this chaotic exploration into things gone wrong.
I could write for hours about the really phenomenal closeness and familiarity of my extended family. About how very much a family it is, and how losses are felt in intimate fashion. (That is not to say that loss in most extended families are trivial, it does seem, however, that to many the loss of Great Uncle may not be too relevant.) But I'll spare you for now.
Instead, I'll turn back into the narrative.
Sitting amdist all my scattered notes, trying to make sense of and solve something, the news of his death offered what seems to be a very surreal calm. For a little while there's only the problem of a mourning family. And in the end, I'm inclined to think tonight, that if in nothing else we can administer equality, we can claim the sorrow of mourning as a shared experience, along with existential angst and the ability of one another to offer peace.
1 comment:
it's so very Bonnie-esque to have such a beautiful sentiment juxtaposed with pictures of toilet paper on a window sill.
i share with you the frusteration of trying to resolve the world's issues with some kind of common understanding of how that needs to happen.
but i think you got it right here.
equality takes on a different appearance than we often expect it to.
thanks.
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