Things seem so much less random tonight. A lot more solidity, even as the margins of the unknowingness are still so vast.
A good meal can do a lot. I had a good meal. While I slept the sleep of Lorazepam this afternoon (the kind of odd sleep you fight to attain, then fight later to shake off), J made the most fantastic dinner for us. Roasted veggies of every type. Steak and salmon. Salad.
My friend K was coming over for dinner for the first time. An artist I’ve known for a bit, but not really hung out with before. After some initial misunderstanding about when we wanted her here, she came, and even though Young J had been keen to have her here during the Shabbat blessings, so he could explain them to her (she’s not Jewish), she got here late and missed them. But we talked about them anyway. She looked amazed by the boys. It was easy to feel that way about them too. The night had an irreversible charm.
After dinner, my friend K looked at Young J’s art portfolio. It was so wonderful to see him take such pride and explain, and to see what K took from his work. She also spent a little time showing us her constant performance/interactive piece, which is a man figurine who lives in her pocket, who is not the same race that she is. I started using this to introduce Young J to the ideas of otherness, alienation. It’s heavy, but his brain gets heavier daily and this stuff is so interesting, I figured I should just try.
The boys were up so late, beyond all reason, especially since they’ve been rising much before 7. The daylight is encroaching – when I woke from my Lorezapam nap, I found pajama pants covering my face to block the light.
Less light, less light! Could Goethe’s own dying words have been wrong? Would less light have saved him? Turns out, he may not have said this at all:
The “Mehr Licht!” (More Light) quote from Goethe is disputed. It’s also claimed to be “Mehr nicht!” (No more)
I’ll leave you, as this gets progressively less linear, with an idea someone has proposed. Someone I know wants me to write a rap song which he wants to produce for me. I am seriously considering it.
Nothing is off the table.