i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
Note: Drawing a rendition of artwork by Mary Englebreit
As a very young girl, about the age of six, I remember looking through my grandparents’ encyclopedia under “Art” and seeing a multitude of examples of what art is. I cannot remember what any of those painting were except for one, “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” by Georges Seurat. I’m not sure what drew me too it at the time. It could have simply been the vibrant colors, the reds, greens and blues; reminding me of all the different color crayons I would use in my coloring book. But, looking back I think it was more than that.
I was drawn to it because there was a certain amount of wonder and curiosity as to who these people are, what they are doing, and more importantly, what are they looking at and thinking about? When I would find myself staring at this painting, I would find myself in it. I could relate to it. There is a familiar sense of belonging and not belonging at the same time. I could relate to feeling as though I was a part of something, connected to the beauty of the nature around me, but unable to connect and interact with the people around me. Maybe I could see that the subjects in the painting had a unity with nature but, not with each other. Maybe they were not quite different than myself.
I had completely forgotten about “La Grande Jatte” until I looked at the picture I took of the Golden Gate Bridge. It brought back the same feelings I had when I looked at Seurat’s painting. We were all there together looking at the beauty and amazement of what surrounded us, connected by our surroundings, sharing the same experience together but, completely disjoined in this experience. I look at the photograph and I am drawn to it because I find myself wondering the same things I did about Seurat’s subjects; who are they, what are they thinking about, and what are they looking at off in the distance? The only difference is that I was there. I know what they were looking at. You can see it in my post here. But, even with knowing what it was they were looking at I still find wonder and mystery in the photograph; I still find myself there in that moment, in the photograph, connected and yet disconnected all at once. It is my own personal “Island of La Grande Jatte.”
Today the ocean was so sad.
It was the color of depression and yet it was beautiful still.
The waves played a melancholy melody which existed only in my mind.
All sounds ceased to exist.
The waves themselves became silent and their patterns only made sense to me.
It was as if I was the only one who could understand the world.
Written: August 2000
The days just slip by without ever realizing the little things that are so important. And that is letting people know how much you love them and appreciate them. People don’t usually realize that until it is too late to say it, or when the person is already gone.
Sometimes when you take the chance to say how you feel you have nothing to gain, but at least you didn’t miss your chance. You need to say it, to throw it out there, to make it exist in the world. Because, does a feeling really exist when the only person that knows it is yourself?
Written: June 1999
It seems so close now that time will portray its ultimate lesson.
I will see all that which I have not, and she will see me.
I will have a chance to witness my life through eyes which I expected, but feared what would fade away.
It seems so close now that you will embark with me.
Am I living in a dream?
Or is it possible my dreams live with me?
– Credit: JCR (1996)