autumn is coming to an end, at least that is how it feels. it rained yesterday, and here rain is winter. autumn for me was living with spiders. my garden room is full of them – they come and go through the gaps in the crooked window frames, they spin cobwebs all over the room, sometimes i find traces of them in dreams, in my bed in the morning and through bites on my body. cohabitation. i’m enjoying the proximity of these creatures a lot.
memories of other autumns pass by. autumn 2004 – profound exhaustian, agony and sadness. the breakdown, the fall. made soft by winter and spring in istanbul. autumn of 2005 – dancing joy and happiness. contente d’etre heureuse, as they say in that beautiful circus that came to visit saint-gilles. torn away from that by the winter in santa cruz. and now autumn in santa cruz. it’s gentle. gentle compared to the intensities of previous years. and gentle compared to this summer, with the beautiful intensity of the caravan of friends and the angry intensity of my santa cruz resentment. gentle with lots of nest warmth and writing solitude. and some class adventures and some political challenges that i don’t quite manage to live up to in the flow of this writing life.
and in some hours time i’m flying to london – oh, a radical different intensity of things to come, perhaps, who knows, a second autumn.
(marÃa’s photos, of course)