You wake and think, I’m doing fine. Really good even. Then a letter comes, something to do with the property. Its a fairly simple thing but… it stops you into that familiar place, you can’t move out of. Everything becomes difficult, a chore, monumental.
I want my days to all be nights so I may lie under the feathers and sleep.
To sleep and not think, not feel.
I walk down the isles of clothing and run my fingers over the tops of the sweaters.
I’m looking for his sweater.
That Italian fine knit crew neck sweater he wore when I first saw him and fell hopelessly in love.
You can fall in love in an instant.
Your heart swells so much that you can barley take a full breathe.
You can feel your cheeks heating.
Then a wave rising up your head till you can feel the little electric charges going off and your hearing diminishes.
Your mind floats in a daze of love in the open fields with the warm wind fondling your skin.
Lying next to him you can see the sun’s rays creating a glimmer on his damp chest.
I kiss his shoulder and lick my lips, tasting him.
He smells so lovely and unlike any other.
I take deep breaths of him, wanting to inhale him to devour him.
The day before he crossed over as I laid next to him, I placed my face in his hand and breathed him in. I could still smell him.
When he died and I kissed him, his fragrance was no longer. He was gone.
I know his fragrance and I will recognize it when we meet up.
As my computer slowly fills with my images I realize that there will never be new folders of his current creations. Bruce gave me and the world a lot of himself and his creative visions.
My heart longs for him, misses him greatly.
My excitement in NewFoundland filled me with such volume. When I was there I kept having to tell myself to BREATH. Deep breaths fed my brain with oxygen so I may continue to explore. I have images flipping across my mind like a slide show, with only seconds on each one. I feel dizzy.
When the day arrived for me to make the second long drive into St. John’s I was excited again. There was never any feeling of being lost there. There was no moments of panic. There was no one expecting me. I was a feather caught by the passing winds.
Driving in the rain downtown to the Harbour was an eye opening experience. To walk up very sloped streets lined with colourful houses was like being in a story book. Was I experiencing it or was I being drawn on each page? There was no finger guiding me through a map. It was the colours on the street corners that determined my path.
Was I mesmerized by the beauty created in my mind? Could the mist and fog have been a dream? As I sit here in my room I wonder and question myself.
Months will have to come and go to pass before I understand what it has done to me. Even as I sit here I am trying to sort the purpose of its importance to me.
Could it just be a simple lesson in feeling a passion for something and doing it, on my own.
I know for a fact that another relationship will never be in my cards. I say this because I do not want one. When I love I give too much of myself. I have not the strength to loose again.
My body’s reaction to coming home is to get ill. I have been in bed for three days. With my growing weakness I fear it may be four, but I will resist and sit to write and hopefully draw. Perhaps its in this that I will find ???????? Something to hold on to.
I’m sitting here in front of my computer screen, thinking. How do I sum up this month in NewFoundland?
I came with suitcases full of anticipation and direction. As I sit here wondering what it was that pulled me here, I can only make assumptions. Perhaps it is not so important why we are drawn to something or a place but just that we are.
Assuming that a distance place where B and I never went together would somehow put his image from my mind somehow in the background. Well it was anything but. Discovering a new place just brought him more in the foreground but in a different way I think. Again, as I write, new discovered thoughts emerge. Before I came here for the two years that I lived without his physical body in front of me, I just wanted to be with him. I welcomed the idea of crossing over to continue a new life with him.
This month I have walked so many new shores and speaking to B was part of it. It was no longer longing to be with him but accepting the new relationship we have. Him on the other side and me here discovering and enjoying the new experiences while still holding him near. I think that I have [hopefully] discovered a way that I can share and communicate with him but without sadness and longing.
B’s thoughts come to me clearer here, perhaps it’s the moisture in the air hehe. I have not spent time being overly sad. The gift of walking by the ocean daily is truly a wonderful therapeutic session.
Paining? Well not much of that got done, almost completed one 30×40. I will bring it home and then we will see.
Understanding that someone you love does not leave you when they pass on is one of those things that you can tell yourself and god only knows others certainly find this a favourite phrase to tell us. I think now, that it comes when we have reached that point on our own. Thinking back in this past two years I can easily see how someone could completely loose themselves with grief. A friend say one day, grief if you allow it will eat you up. A year ago I would have said bon appetite! Today? As the sun just broke through the heavy clouds I would say, You don’t really want to eat me, I’m not very tasty heheh
Do I feel sad about leaving this island? Not today. With over 2000 photographs and videos and a laptop screaming NO MORE NO MORE! I do think I can remember the feelings enough to make me happy.
My playing by the ocean has brought me a new perspective in the views I look at. I have experimented with images and I do look forward to painting some of them out.
Always I hope that my writing this blog will in a small way help others not feel so alone and if I can find a glimmer of light I have no doubt that you can as well.