So, we went to the beach.
The sun was fat, the sand was soft and the water-- shimmied up and down the shoreline.
Today is not a day at the beach. Today, my desk is piled with all that I failed to complete on Friday. Today, I woke up criticizing myself before I had even opened my eyelids-- the hell?
I am here with you now to try and reorient and get back in the slipstream.
Yes, I have stuff that has to get done. Yes, I would much prefer to spend this sweet Sunday afternoon dawdling, lolling and lounging. Yes, I will find a path between those two opposites, somehow.
One way is to post pictures from yesterday and remember the heat on my skin, the water at my ankles, the swoop of the gulls.
And to laugh, hard-- as I scan the shots of Henry receiving the coos and pets and adoration of four young RISD girls who are a scant two weeks from graduation.
They went crazy over Henry and I promise you he would have happily gone home with them had I been able to give him up. Can you imagine the new lease on life he would have? Life with four wild women, passionate and excited-- about to embark on the world-- women who have shining degrees in apparel, sculpture and printmaking? Life in Brooklyn-- a paid internship with Calvin Klein?
Oh Henry, alas-- you have to come home to your middle-aged, boring routines. No dancing in the fountain for you, but for one shining moment, how good it must've felt to be king, hmm?