One of the more beautiful weekends in recalled history. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary. Just very lovely company, food, and events. Friday night was something to behold. I felt like a spectator, a voyeur, watching a minimalist film that I would like to be in. And I was. I was living and breathing and watching and talking.
The art opening at Umber really caught me off-guard. The photographs/writing aesthetic was so warm, entirely similar to my own that it felt safe and familiar. It did not feel like a moment in time from my current life. There were genuine smiles and conversating. And a complete immersion with the content covering the tiny walls. I fell in love with everything I saw and heard.
And then I traveled over to the Cedar and was captivated yet again. Justin Vernon is truly a force to be reckoned with and I do say force with the greatest intention. I was in an extended moment of tranfixed attention for over an hour. One of those moments where you feel entirely isolated and engrossed. Again, it was beautiful. The rest of the weekend continued on. The wrap of sentimentality seemed to follow and cover everything I did. I was all right with this. It felt like I was experiencing everything for the first time. And I felt it.
I thought about individual moments of time that are maybe meaningless, but vibrant none the less.
Grapefruit, wine, eulogys. In no particular order.
One. I only put sugar on you when I feel sentimental.
Two. Part of me is pretty sure that swishing wine between ones teeth is not part of the intricate tasting process. But my father does it anyways.
Three. I'd rather say nothing than say something false.
113
14 years ago
