The story behind this photo of some photos is actually the story of the postscript within..."Where we eat breakfast". Which I will get to. But first: I've said it a million times to my clients, and now I say it again, if you're going to advertise that you have a blog, you better be blogging on it.
I say to myself: it's OK, lady. You need a break. No one will notice.
But the problem is: I notice. Every week in my planner I write for Monday morning, "update your blog." I have been writing that every Monday morning since April of 2019.
So that's how many Mondays that have passed? I swear, I'm not lazy. It's just...life. Right?
Just today I was going through the notes from my research of Georgia O'Keeffe's personal letters at Yale University's Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. I spent a chilly week there recently, muscling my way through bone-slicing winds from my tiny studio cave to the welcoming weight of the Beinecke's perfect, glowing symmetry. My Airbnb, located four stories up, was geographically, meteorologically, and aurally situated to enhance the cries of a relentless wind. The perfect square of the library, by contrast, offered a stalwart defense from the elements–a fortress for the written word and a soldier of silence for sleepless writers.
As I think back on it, I still get a chill. But the chill comes from the fact that this was not a "recent" experience - it was over TWO YEARS AGO. Really. I feel like it was a couple of weeks ago. So, here we get to my main point: where the hell does time go and is it OK to lose track of it to such an extreme?
I am allowing myself to say yes, this is OK. I am writing a book, in grad school, working, dealing with all those obligations of family and pets and home maintenance, and all of the things that pile up on each and every one of us. You get the point...we all have things going on and there is nothing quite like a global pandemic to change your life, alter your sense of time, sway your visions of what's important.
Anyway, all this said, I always look to history for comfort and insight and revelation.
As I looked through my notes from the Beinecke, I found these photos: a special place, where comfort was found, a friendship was formed, and lives were well-lived despite the surrounding chaos. Signifying so much more than "Where we eat breakfast", this simple group of stumps where Maria and Georgia would dine, says to me you can make something of nothing, make the ordinary extraordinary, find beauty where you choose, and even create a harbour to weather the most tempestuous of storms...
***Images courtesy Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University
There is more on this special spot to come...hopefully it won't take me so long to get around to it this time. Actually, I promise it won't. Stay safe out there and I hope you have a harbour in this long storm we all have to weather.
