Monday evening last week was good for Classical Revolution after yoga. I texted Tom from the train about that, but he went MIA. So, I met Charlie at the Revolution.
About a year ago, Charlie tried to meet me there, but as soon as we exchanged a sentence each, Tom showed up and kissed me hello, Charlie vanished. Continue reading “Kinds of Music”
“I envy your grey hair,” says Tom.
We are walking down the street, Tom, two french ladies, and I, surveying the neighborhood, chatting, our pairings rearrange occasionally. Now Tom is on my embellished side, and, apparently, he’s been checking it out. Continue reading “Grey Hair”
“Did your father leave many bequests, Mr Strange?”
“No, madam. None. He hated everybody.”
“Ah! That is fortunate, is it not?”
– Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Here, I give you permission
to take space,
to speak…
…slowly,
to breathe…
…as you connect in silence,
to feel…
…whatever,
to receive,
to be awkward,
to be wrong,
to be glorious.
Until you accept the permission, I give you orders.
“For some people, work is everything,” says Ra. “I like my job, and I took all the right steps to get where I am, but I really just do this to support my family.”
(As an aside, our job is up there on at least one list of The 10 Best Jobs.)
“What would you do if you didn’t have to work?” I ask. Continue reading “The Watchmaker”
Love letters understated 