I should be working but found a piece of my childhood. It's from the commune. We're playing a game of "the bear is sleeping". I'm right there in the tie-dye skirt on the ground. Sara is next to me.
The setting looks so barren but I look at this and the tears are just welling up.
How long is a childhood? I think back on it now, years compressed into flickering instants. I was barefoot all summer, running around the island with my friends. There were grown ups every where, engaged in restoring the place and debating how to change the world or play with us like they do here. Now the grown ups are all in their late 60s to 70s, battling all kinds of ailments.
I'm a grown up myself. When did that happen?
I can feel the dirt against my knees, my hands against my forehead, the building excitement as I know that any moment know, it's my turn to stand up and chase the others cause the bears are not sleeping any more.
Life is so heartbreaking in the way it's always moving forward, forward. I'd just like to visit the past every now and then, check in on the people who are gone, check in on the people we were, to live in a time before I understood the concepts of time, illness and death.
Who am I kidding. I still don't grasp death and time. I'm on the ground with my head on my hands, knees on the dirt, enjoying the exhilarating notion that I'm here, now.
Back to work.
Just have to calm down. Hardest thing of all - to look back without letting sorrow and sadness and longing take over. I want to change the human condition. Have those who are dead resurrected, the ill healthy. I'd like to look back on a picture like this and just relish in the good, without having to struggle with the sadness of longing for people I'll never meet again. Can't be done.
