February 25, 2009

Things I have forgotten


This morning I was chatting online with a cyber friend - he asked me to tell him something about myself that he doesn't already know. I thought - hey that shouldn't be too hard, since he never actually met me, or was part of my real life...
But then I find myself staring blankly at the keyboard, and realizing I have no idea what to say.
Life makes me concentrate on the mundane - my job, my marriage with its ups and downs, my little errands and pastimes. I forget to look at myself – in the mirror or inside my memories.

Oddly enough, I can think of myself as a coherent entity in the past – my high school years, my university ‘self’ – but those images are well defined because the context helped them build up. Making a name/ a life for myself in a post-Cold War environment has required a truly outrageous energy. Bohemian times were locked up for keeps and unlikely to come back.

I miss the times when my identity involved long –long skirts, guitar playing, outdoor painting or poetry reading. One by one, they got replaced by smart suits, fancy hi-fi audio equipment, reading and writing checks and attending boring functions.

So who am I? Maybe even writing this on my laptop in a fancy word processor is peeling yet another layer off my once round and colorful self; I should have written it on paper, deprived of the backspace key and the perfect alignment of text.

Hey, of course I am all of the above, but I wish for a moment I could step off the day-by-day platform, take off my high heels and eat food with my fingers, maybe sneak in the cinema theater without paying the ticket. I still AM able to fill the blank spaces with colorful patches from the past. Hope they can make for a good mirror reflection

February 01, 2009

A Dead Affair



A number of years ago I was dating a promising young architect; handsome, clever, well spoken; being in my early twenties, naturally he swept me off my feet... Of all the stories he told me, I remember one that fascinated me - he slept with his best friend's mother - at that age - this sort of 'reversed' relationship sort of appalled me... I mean, the woman must have been in her 40s...
Eighteen years and many lovers later I realize the relativity of it all. I had affairs with all kinds of men, younger, older, clever, common, fit or not. My history with the said architect has since covered almost two decades, has slipped through three marriages - two of his, one of mine. We're still running in circles, looking for the perfect moment to meet and interact. I am recalling this affair pretty often - firstly because it was my first love, secondly because it was a love that grew with me, and finally, because I learned from it the lesson of rejection .