This was a long weekend that allowed me to rest a little, at least do something else. I have been working for a month now on the last room of the house that had not yet been renovated. It’s not as much as I can afford it, but it’s a necessity. This large room, the so-called double living room, whose unnecessary separation I undid, widened the openings, was still, until very recently, a real giant closet.
I’m long for the final set, but things are in order. I throw, I classify. One room empties and another fills up so that another can work on it. It looks like my life right now. Everything is in the pipeline. Perhaps this is how my days will always be built because many projects are starting with this novel which encounters surprising pitfalls, but which advances all the same. It may eventually come into being and, I am told, it is expected to be released in January or February 2015. I am not yet sure that I should be happy about that. The doubts are not over with me. I rely on the great forces that are beyond me. The other worksite is certainly this apartment. Then the restoration of my finances, then the real anchoring to my work, then I don’t know what.
There is also this singing class which gives me as much satisfaction as frustration. My voice is rising, but is it the harbinger of winter and complications of all kinds elsewhere in my life that make me doubt it too? Aren’t I too old and too poor to afford young first class? As perhaps my grandmother Germaine was, I am an anxious person by nature?
You just need a big vacation, whisper to me the quiet voice of my reason. And that is the problem, that reason is right. I don’t see how I could do that. No money and I have to survive well, keep afloat what is still flowing a little.
So I continue my work. So releasing this double living room pushes me to want to dream of doing photography again. That’s all it took for fate to send me a good signal. A friend, whom I haven’t seen in a long time, will soon be celebrating his 50th birthday. He contacted me on Facebook because he would like me to take his portrait. It doesn’t take much more than that for me to do watch videos on Craftsy…
I’m made like that, always on one leg, dancing angry menuet. The cosmic saw does the rest, the gestures I make delineate by themselves the architecture of what will be done in my next days, months. People from the past contact me, others, not yet in my present, make a place for themselves. Nothing is lost and nothing is created, they say. So I’m in the middle of a blind rehearsal, and I dream of great horizons.
Whoever lives will see.