The retaining walls at Griffith Park have leaf impressions in them.
And most importantly, a week ago, I flew to San Francisco to take the Mira Betz intensive master class, a performance-based self-exploration of wonderment that mostly left me feeling not quite so terrible about the future of bellydancing, and also had me remembering how much I really like acting exercises.
It's possible there could be an uglier knick-knack, but I doubt it. This is from the yard sale that I helped price at the counseling center where I volunteer.
I've been wandering the streets of the Mission, taking BART to Oakland, and basking in the totally broken, un-San-Francisco-like 92 degree weather for the past week, and tomorrow I fly out to Pittsburgh for a Rotary orientation, without which I would not receive my scholarship funds for Australia. I am very excited about it, actually, although I am naturally more excited about visiting the friends I left in Pittsburgh.
I miss my friends. I miss them a lot. I find myself missing them but not wanting to intrude on their lives, which are busy and moving on past me, as I chose to step outside their parameters. So I miss lunch and breakfast and dinner and dance practice and random trips to stores that are familiar.
And then I prepare for my grandfather's 90th birthday and reflect that you might have a lot of years of missing left.
1 comment:
there are sentiments here that are echoed...
Post a Comment