I've spent the last few days pulling my shit together. As ridiculous as it sounds, I think daylight savings time made me depressed. I gets dark so early, before I even get home from work, the light dissolves as I sit on the shuttle and think-there would be so many impossibly amazing things to do before dinner if only it were light out. I'm a fan of naïve wishful thinking.
So, to counter the lightless blues, I bought a bunch of books of poetry and short stories to make the days longer, or something. I have never really gotten into poetry before, except as an early high schooler trying to find parallels between Anne Sexton's pain and my own (there were none), or trying to write some of my own (I couldn't), or letting my friends recommend one-off poems to me, which I'd read and like and forget about. I was talking to this girl who's semi squatting in our apartment right now about how poetry moves her and what about it. And, to me, I realized poems are the densest form of meticulously chosen language--worked and re-worked so there's not a scrap wasted. Like when you cut cookies out of rolled-out dough then mash the jagged pieces back together to roll again.
Tonight I'm going to dinner with the two kids I spent most of my time in Berlin with. I miss Berlin like you wouldn't believe. I don't know what it is about that city--the time I was there, the time in my life, the people, whatever--but nostalgia's a bitch for something that far away.
"I know nostalgia/wants to make the present/feel bereft: a way of pretending,/neither the truth, nor invention." -Lawrence Raab.
About two years ago I became obsessed with the Sony Bravia Commercial with the bouncing balls that dance through the streets of San Francisco to some sweet song about heartbeats, which fits with all the little bouncing heartbeats, and it seemed so obvious and beautiful to convey emotion with a good song and thousands of tiny balls. Then the director, who seems to have a talent for these sorts of things, came up with this commercial, and while less poignant, nevertheless exhilarting. I think there's something about gravity, it's inevitable tug, that triggers something powerful and innate.
Like, wasn't that awesome?
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