On a bright, cool day in December I packed up all my things and took the fool’s journey into a new cohabitation. The fool will say “it’s different this time,” but the wise fool knows when it’s actually true.
What follows are excerpts from my journal entries written before, during, and after the move.
A tent full of women in folding chairs,
a table at the front
a buffet served over beds of ice
talking about the interplay between dreams/words and reality,
the inner and the outer life
how this very event starts as a dream,
started as words on paper,
and moved through them into reality
how reality and our experience of it
sparks our inner life —> poetry
the experience of a bite of food
or running into a friend by chance
or hearing someone else’s words read aloud
informs our own inner life
the idea of delicious food served over beds of ice
and wildflowers perched in mason jars
and a room full of women — all these beautiful women!
young, old, mothers, crones, fat and skinny, smooth and blemished —
listening and speaking
it’s important that some of the
women have short hair