So much on my mind, but can’t find time to write. A whirlwind tour to a small town and then a funeral. Sometimes life comes in big packages, and when you open you get a surprise, a small surprise hiding inside the tinsel paper and be-ribboned box. That small surprise magnifies to fill your life, to consume you with worry. It’s good I have a blog where I can take it all off. Sort of wash myself and my linen clean.
“We all carry around so much pain in our hearts. Love and pain and beauty. They all seem to go together like one little tidy confusing package. It's a messy business, life. It's hard to figure – full of surprises. Some good. Some bad.”
- Henry Bromel
Such is life. As they say in French, cest la vie. I don’t know French. Correct my ignorance, show me my insolence. I studied Sanskrit instead. I wish I could have studied both, seeing as how much I miss French classics and old French writers. Well, Paris
2 comments:
I always say: Add life into life but it is easy to say than done. I am learning to do so.
trust the french to define life! when documentaries show their paved streets, roadside cafes, sunny beaches, one feels frightened for them: so much of what they take for granted is threatened by changing times and careless migration. once was europe the utopia travellers dreamt of.
why do funerals bring on introspection? why must a death make us aware of life? who knows. it's like after a satisfying meal, we say god! i was so hungry.
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