So much that seemed important has evaporated, replaced by nothing really - not much more than an empty room, an odd sense of calm, no great promise of tomorrow, just a quiet afternoon with the clouds rolling in the distance, rain spattering on the windows in odd bursts, flashes of lightning, quick floods in the street, all adding up to a silent breath that takes a full week to come in and out. This vacuum, this absence of black clouds, this limbo - it does not keep me up at night. Sleeping with the doors flung open, the old dreams are replaced by new ones. No more forgetting your lines and somehow finding yourself on stage, buck naked. No more trips to the old apartment in New York, discovering the room you never knew was there. No more dark afternoons in a tiny boat, as the water turns into charred rice crispies that will swallow you whole.
Of course, there is some impatience. If you are like me, you love the grind. But when there is no grind, and we find ourselves standing around with pants that have no pockets, putting our hands in a million places that feel wrong, we struggle to stand still.
All the same, the days find their purpose.
Another wine festival, with more familiar faces - friends that make the most perfect Pet Nat, that you sniff deeply, nose shoved down into the glass, all wildflowers and sunshine, and then sip and it is so sweetly dry and cold and dances on your tongue like a drunken Tinkerbell flew in by mistake, tasting of strange fruit and wobbling around you mouth until you swallow, leaving traces of lemon oil somehow, and then you do it all over again. There are few things in the world as magical as the first taste of wine made by someone you know, faces sharing expressions, looking for more than approval - asking for a silent understanding. All of that work, that struggle to protect the vines from a thousand foes, the pressing, the careful extractions, the decisions about when to leave the skins, and so many more. And here you are on a Saturday afternoon in a parking lot, tasting it and tipping your head back for the last drop, head shaking to yourself, how the hell did that happen, how did I get here, how can I be the same person I was a year ago, I did not think I could be this lucky.
https://youtu.be/igLYq8pXLgk
I could use another lazy Sunday afternoon like my 20’s. Of course I’m certain that I’ll miss these kinda lazy Sundays in my 40’s with the kids....