I’ve been walking around.  Looking at things.

There are so many things that are so beautiful.  (I tried to take a picture of a woman on a park bench, looking out over the ocean, but she turned around and saw me and I had to pretend I was panning with my video camera, as though that’s any less creepy.)

It feeds me and soothes me in a small, confused space that has been forming inside of me.

I don’t understand grocery stores and I fumble with money, but I understand this.

I’ve been living like I’m in cotton, like my head can’t hold belief. When I wake up I check my email.  I’ve forgotten how big the world really is, even though I’ve traveled the length of it.

I’ve forgotten that connection is all I have. Connection with God who smiles on me even when my head is fuzzy and I’ve lost my rhythm.  His open hands giving to me always: love from my children, talks with my parents. Good food. Rest.

When I was walking outside I gave myself a shake. The cold wind made me squint but I tried to keep my eyes open, letting them fill with tears, just so I could see the sky for real, the very blueness of it, the way you can’t touch it, even though it’s right there.

God, I may forget to talk to you, but I know that you never forget me.

(Thank you every one, for your kind invitations.  I have all the emails, so I’ll be able to get in touch, and I’ll be posting everything here. I don’t think anything will be happening until June, but you never know.)

My bathroom self-portrait suddenly took on a very true-to-life form.  Power outs. In India. Definitely part of my life.