Biding my time, waitin' on the train back to New York town.
Without my noticing it, the layer of ice around my heart has cracked a little. I've been alone and content without realizing, too.
I finished Gone With the Wind last night after spending ten years in that lovely bitter world. I learned so much more than I expected... I highly recommend it, especially to y'all Georgians.
I cried for the last hundred pages, then called Brooks and stretched the sidewinder out to the roof, where the stars over East Hampton were as dazzling and clear as I have seen them since I was fourteen and lay in the mountain grass beside Jessie at the feet of our horses.
We'll be back down to the southland before the end of August, mark my words. His mother but two days in the grave and his hurt and bewildered heart believes that there might be something beyond the Mason-Dixon that could soothe it. A freewheeling drive down through Appalachia would do us all a lot of good.
I have a new recurring card.
When I come out here on the Montauk line, there is the strain of being inexperienced Help, the strain of a spoiled child. But there is also the reward of (as I've been told) Carrying the Torch into the Dark Places, and this time it's my mother's torch.
1. Read every book in the library.
2. Understand and respect nature.
3. Imagine.
I have three projects in mind now:
Handpainted Tarot deck.
Horse & Rifle etchings.
Narrative from the child's heart.
I'm learning more about my own ways, the delicate and particular things that make up a person. I'm not yet certain what I'll do with them, but I have another year yet to remain the Prodigal Daughter.
I found a job offered: a large country estate in France looking for a nanny/groom, looking after children and exercising brood mares, no English spoken, potential for lessons with professional showjumper. Makes me want to give up being the Daughter right away.
I recokn I got some patience in me.
I finished Gone With the Wind last night after spending ten years in that lovely bitter world. I learned so much more than I expected... I highly recommend it, especially to y'all Georgians.
I cried for the last hundred pages, then called Brooks and stretched the sidewinder out to the roof, where the stars over East Hampton were as dazzling and clear as I have seen them since I was fourteen and lay in the mountain grass beside Jessie at the feet of our horses.
We'll be back down to the southland before the end of August, mark my words. His mother but two days in the grave and his hurt and bewildered heart believes that there might be something beyond the Mason-Dixon that could soothe it. A freewheeling drive down through Appalachia would do us all a lot of good.
I have a new recurring card.
When I come out here on the Montauk line, there is the strain of being inexperienced Help, the strain of a spoiled child. But there is also the reward of (as I've been told) Carrying the Torch into the Dark Places, and this time it's my mother's torch.
1. Read every book in the library.
2. Understand and respect nature.
3. Imagine.
I have three projects in mind now:
Handpainted Tarot deck.
Horse & Rifle etchings.
Narrative from the child's heart.
I'm learning more about my own ways, the delicate and particular things that make up a person. I'm not yet certain what I'll do with them, but I have another year yet to remain the Prodigal Daughter.
I found a job offered: a large country estate in France looking for a nanny/groom, looking after children and exercising brood mares, no English spoken, potential for lessons with professional showjumper. Makes me want to give up being the Daughter right away.
I recokn I got some patience in me.