Where They Intersect

One side of the street

One side of the street

12 August 2013
11:14 pm

Edinburgh

T. —

It’s my first-ever wedding anniversary. One year. So much happens in twelve months, but what Andrew said this morning is right: it feels like ten. I am so lucky. To be here, in this mess of possibility and joy. Because that’s what it is, every day.

I took two pictures for you today, standing in the intersection of my favorite street(s) in Edinburgh. The streets themselves are not significant, but where they intersect… those are my favorite places in the city right now. The corners of George Street and Hanover Street — looking down towards the Firth of Forth, the Kingdom of Fife in the distance, the water, the layers of the streets and trees. And looking back towards Princes Street, the galleries, the heart and life of the city. The perfect balance of society and nature, of company and personal. Solitude. Movement. Pace. Patience.

I never thought about it this much until I stood in the middle of these streets, deciding which picture to take for you, and then just opening my eyes to see where I was.

The other side.

The other side.

*

“For me, like I said, I’ve only been studying contemporary poetry seriously for, I guess, two and a half years now, so I still feel like I’m just learning the lay of the land. I don’t know the extent of it yet.”

– James Franco, Poetry Foundation interview.

*

Have you heard about this? Letters? Amazing letters? On the stage? I am loving the world of theater tonight. I am in it. I feel right in it.

*

I Have a Seat in the Abandoned Theater
Mahmoud Darwish, transl. by Fady Joudah

I have a seat in the abandoned theater
in Beirut. I might forget, and I might recall
the final act without longing … not because of anything
other than that the play was not written
skillfully …
Chaos
as in the war days of those in despair, and an autobiography
of the spectators’ impulse. The actors were tearing up their scripts
and searching for the author among us, we the witnesses
sitting in our seats
I tell my neighbor the artist: Don’t draw your weapon,
and wait, unless you’re the author!
—No
Then he asks me: And you are you the author?
—No
So we sit scared. I say: Be a neutral
hero to escape from an obvious fate
He says: No hero dies revered in the second
scene. I will wait for the rest. Maybe I would
revise one of the acts. And maybe I would mend
what the iron has done to my brothers
So I say: It is you then?
He responds: You and I are two masked authors and two masked
witnesses
I say: How is this my concern? I’m a spectator
He says: No spectators at chasm’s door … and no
one is neutral here. And you must choose
your part in the end
So I say: I’m missing the beginning, what’s the beginning?
*
I’m missing the ending, but I’m still living life all the same, no matter where it takes me.
Goodnight,
M
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3 thoughts on “Where They Intersect

  1. I am not sure about the link re: letters on stage (it linked back to Franco’s interview), but if you meant the play based on Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell’s letters–Dear Elizabeth–then yes, I have read about it last May. I was absolutely excited about it and at the same time devastated because of course I couldn’t go. So I clutched Words on Air to my chest and told myself that I had the next best thing–probably the best thing.

    T.

    • Actually, it’s an interview, so slightly different from the link you posted. I think you’ll enjoy it anyway. You hit the nail on the head with the play.

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