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(looking for) the heartbreaker

It has been more than two months sitting at the little white table in the living room, writing. Pushing out pages, fixing these pages, living with these pages then waking up and chewing them apart again, then adding on a new section. It is a mill, grinding the raw ideas down to a fine powder that may somehow rise and become bread. Or it may not. So many thoughts begin with "what if". What if they get stuck in an old elevator? What if she is not home when they come the first time? What if she is coming back from the market and passes them on the stairs? What if the driver is older? Or younger? What if his brother shows up instead? The questions are greater than the results on the page, the dialogue is whittled down to nubs of something recognizable.

There are cold cups of coffee, emails that go unanswered. The light comes and goes, and most of the work is done in the dark in more ways than one. Cooking dinner helps. Playing some guitar helps. If you are not careful you forge…

impossible


The sun does not seem real in Moscow. I can't believe it comes up so early. The green grass and the trees bursting with leaves overnight are all fake. There are tiny oceans of tulips bobbing in the breeze that I know were not there yesterday. They were planted in the middle of the night.

Sparrows are chirping, dancing around rain puddles. I push E on the swings for a long time. She seems taller than she was a week ago, her face longer, her hand larger in mine. She did not write any stories when I was away, but made a lot of drawings of girls sitting in restaurants.



I know we were in Rome, then Florence, then orange green Bologna and a day half-rainy, half-sunny in Venice. I remember the people staring out of windows, or waiting on quiet corners. I remember waitresses, and busy kitchens glimpsed from the street. There were acres of statues and museums that we ignored, concentrating on espresso cups, fixated on bitter apertifs and cold glasses of wine.


I emptied my pockets of lucky pennies, throwing them in every fountain we passed. 
I know there was a flight, and my ears got plugged up. I know we came back in the middle of the night and curled up in bed and I took E the next day. 
The rest is impossible. 







Comments

liv said…
Wow, Italy looks beautiful. Great photos.

Hope the writing went well.
SHAR said…
Really really fabulous photo's Marco, great to see them.....

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