Correspondence #1

27 september 2009

Greater Los Angeles feels very intense to me these days. People. Cars. Buildings. Sidewalks. For miles and miles. So many people. I'm often in my car, though. By myself, I am passing by.

Our little apartment is simple. There is comfort here, surrounded by the things that are familiar to me. I have a lot of objects out where I can see them. And, I do see them, just about every day. I soak them in. I take in the light passing through glass. I think of the person who gave me the mask, the doll, the tiny, brick-red tea pot. I feel the smiles and the warmth from the photos. I am here.

For several days I was thinking about belongings and my mind kept punching through each concept I tried to grab on to. Not this. Not this. I was trying not to be attached to anything because I know that things can be lost. To place my love in things feels scary. So I settled on looking at the rise and fall of my skin as I breathed. I belong in my skin. Maybe only here. (?) This felt shivery, though, so today I committed to letting myself be attached to these things. It doesn't feel quite so lonely. In fact, it feels like home. I'm willing to love these things and especially the people I associate these things with. Otherwise I would be starving. Instead, I feel rich.