From an older world...
Strange how now that I finally have all the time in the world to write, I can't seem to come up with anything. It's like I need the nervous energy of exams to fuel my creativity.
Well, at least I've got some random thoughts to jot down. The following may wax a bit saccharine; you have been warned.
I'm back in Maple Ridge right now, visiting my family. I haven't been back here in months, and something feels different this time. Before, coming back here has been like coming home after an extended absence. Now, for the first time, I feel like a visitor, an outsider exiting the cloud-wrapped imaginary universe of the ivory tower to take a stroll in the countryside of the real.
The world of academics may not be the "real" world, but if you can spend the rest of your life there, does it matter?
This morning I awoke, and inhaled deeply. The air was pregnant with the smell of sunlight making love to the vegetation. But there was another smell too; it smelled the way the smell of apple pancakes feels. I ventured out onto the deck. David was out front, shirtless as usual, making some modifications to an amplifier. I sat in a hammock chair and turned on my laptop, my one connection to my "normal" life when I'm out here. David's speaker system sprang to life, and as I sat there leafing through some comics on my laptop to the background of David rocking out on the harmonica, the absurdity of the situation suddenly struck me, like a penguin in a top hat, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.
What's changed? I think I can trace it to all the new friends I've made in the last few months. For the first time, I'm in a position where at virtually any moment the whim strikes me, there's bound to be at least one person I can find to go out on some social adventure. It feels like my adult life has finally taken off after years of preamble and rehearsal, and my childhood has finally been left behind. Coming back here is like stepping into my own memories; a tiny nature preserve where time flows slower, concentrating and exaggerating every sensation as the moments pile up on one another like molasses.
I don't belong in this world anymore, but it sure is nice to visit.
Well, at least I've got some random thoughts to jot down. The following may wax a bit saccharine; you have been warned.
I'm back in Maple Ridge right now, visiting my family. I haven't been back here in months, and something feels different this time. Before, coming back here has been like coming home after an extended absence. Now, for the first time, I feel like a visitor, an outsider exiting the cloud-wrapped imaginary universe of the ivory tower to take a stroll in the countryside of the real.
The world of academics may not be the "real" world, but if you can spend the rest of your life there, does it matter?
This morning I awoke, and inhaled deeply. The air was pregnant with the smell of sunlight making love to the vegetation. But there was another smell too; it smelled the way the smell of apple pancakes feels. I ventured out onto the deck. David was out front, shirtless as usual, making some modifications to an amplifier. I sat in a hammock chair and turned on my laptop, my one connection to my "normal" life when I'm out here. David's speaker system sprang to life, and as I sat there leafing through some comics on my laptop to the background of David rocking out on the harmonica, the absurdity of the situation suddenly struck me, like a penguin in a top hat, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.
What's changed? I think I can trace it to all the new friends I've made in the last few months. For the first time, I'm in a position where at virtually any moment the whim strikes me, there's bound to be at least one person I can find to go out on some social adventure. It feels like my adult life has finally taken off after years of preamble and rehearsal, and my childhood has finally been left behind. Coming back here is like stepping into my own memories; a tiny nature preserve where time flows slower, concentrating and exaggerating every sensation as the moments pile up on one another like molasses.
I don't belong in this world anymore, but it sure is nice to visit.