there is a space of realization in our age-ing continuum when we realize passed a point of experience there is no return, that is once you know what you know you carry it...and on to the next thing, chapter, life, home, love, discovery, labor, and the next leaving bound round the bend...days come when all this gathering of intensified years starts add up, can the structure of the ship take another adventure into soul whirlpools...? But then, as magic as life, strength waits and we awake ready to gather more seeds of what will become our knowing. 5am yerevan, jet lag, home.
glad you made it home safely. see you maybe next week?
I will miss that home, too. Lovely tribute to the light and sound there.
i am very ambivalent about this "home" -- it's an odd metaphor for a palimpsestic america: the ruthless murals in the basement underneath the white paint -- sort of like the intro chapter from ellison's "invisible man" -- certainly not welcoming and certainly not homely . .