last minute

A good friend called me a couple of days ago and told me he had two free tickets to a concert that evening. The main band was his friend's band and he happened to be the son of Joan Baez so she was opening up for her sons band. It was a small venue (200+/-) and when we arrived he reserved two seats in the front row for us with our names written out on yellow post-its, the third seat next to mine said Joan, but sat empty half of the evening.


He brought us each a glass of wine and the lights dimmed almost immediately and out she came in orange scarves and suede. Her sons band followed and they performed West-African drum music and were flanked by dancers, then Joan would come out and dance and then by the end everyone was up and dancing in the crowd and they were pulling everyone up onto the small stage with them. I felt like some higher being was dangling me above them all by the backs of my ears so that my toes lightly brushed above the intoxicating vibrating drum cloud which absorbed everyone in its presence. Tears perched upon the high ledge which protects my soul and I let them drop as I exchanged ecstatic glances with the surrounding strangers.

It is a very surreal life which I will be leaving behind here. Very surreal.

bittersweet

I said my first goodbye yesterday. It was to an Art Director I've worked with on photo shoots for the past half a year or so...when we stood at the corner of the parking lot and I realized I wouldn't be working with her again before I left she reached out and gave me another big hug even though we'd only just hugged goodbye moments before.


I turned around and walked away on the cold grey cement slabs until I dashed out and ran across the six lanes of oncoming traffic to the other side of the street. The fog was drifting in circles above my head, the cold wind pushing it around the tops of skyscrapers...devouring them. To think...it was about 20 degrees cooler only hours before.

My mind keeps saying "bittersweet...bittersweet" when people tell me how much they'll miss me. I smile back and calmly tell them in a higher pitch that I too will be missing them, and my cheeks flame up to pink when I imagine the wooden house waiting under a thin blanket of snow back east for us. I become lost in my thoughts and detatched from the group as my heart starts to ache for my new quiet life. Bittersweet is my love.