We read Heaney's poetry later in the semester and "Mid-Term Break" quickly became my favorite poem exploring sadness and loss, particularly the emergence of life in the process.
I visited Emory University over the weekend and while my host was in a morning class on the morning of Halloween, I found the main library and planned to find a cozy spot and read. Instead, I stumbled upon an enormous Seamus Heaney exhibit. It was overwhelming. And bright. And beautiful. And chock-full of words, music, color and impressive museum-exhibitness. I read. And listened. And walked. And then found some free postcards emblazoned with Heaney's poetry.
I haven't yet read Anthony Doerr's novel "All the Light we Cannot See" but I love the title and trying to understand it, the words seem to hint at a comforting unknown of warmth. I heard an interview the other morning with musician Carlos Santana who repeated "I am a reflection of your light" again and again.
Just through words, not meaning, both Doerr's book title and Santana's sentence are so beautifully read/spoken with possibility that feels unexplored, as if there is some other way of seeing and thinking and living.
Whenever flying, I always request a window seat. Images can never quite do justice to the world below, but there's so much beautiful distraction in looking downwards from any great height, observing any chunk of earth from a distance.
New York City
Atlanta at night (from a building).
Lake Michigan, Chicago
