Wednesday take out. Pots are packed. No food in the fridge. I go to Edo’s on Park – sushi. I want sushi for my last meal in my downtown life, even though the NYT beat up on us, the undiscerning sushi eaters, just a few days ago.
But I take the NYT admonition seriously. I sit at the bar and watch the cooks, so that they can engage me, tell me about the fish they have available for the day… Okay, none of this “engagement” happens. But I sit and watch, even though I know the sushi will be the same, whether I watch or not.
Back at the loft. Pack and run. Soon. Not yet
I can’t remember now the last night in the family home (from where I moved two years ago). Did I sleep? Did I look out at my perennial beds one last time? And wish that the new owners would take them to heart?
How did I leave? In the morning? Happy to be done with packing? Terrified that none of the move would proceed smoothly?
And now? Why would I miss an apartment that was mine for two years only?
What will I miss most? Sometimes I think it is the closeness to the water. I never put a single toe into the lakes downtown, but I watched these peaceful bodies of water frame the gracious capitol of ours and always, the sight would make me smile.
But truthfully, that’s not it. I’ll miss the feeling of hope.
I called my Chicago friend and asked – how is it that I managed to get it all here, to the loft, two years ago? I feel so overwhelmed now…
He reminded me: you were so excited, so enthused then.
I was so excited, so enthused then. I’m not any of that now.
Everyone has an image and a reality. The most productive people, the most creative ones never let the latter catch up. I’m thinking that they live in the image. And perhaps in time, that image takes more and more characteristics of the every day, so that it is a blur, so that it all becomes indistinguishable.
I got so carried away by an image and then it became a bust: it’s not possible. Not any of it. So it’s back to the grindstone.
I’ll miss the loft because it was so removed from past mishaps. A lofty loft. Where friends were best friends. And life was to be reinvented. And then, I proceeded to live in the way that one lives: by falling into more mishaps.
But, the capitol dome was always visible. I’ll miss it.