Who said Sunday mornings were easy?

[wlotus]

For my birthday I received The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volumes 1 and 2. I inhaled the first volume in a matter of days, couldn't put it down. But the second, which I began right after the first, has been slow work. Suddenly I find her musings pretentious and wordy. I am 2/3 of the way through the volume and can only read a page or two at a time, separated by a week or more.

Did she change, or did I?

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I need to take pictures. I have not had an intense photography session in at least a week. But I feel like I have exhausted all of the possibilities. That must mean I am not looking at everyday life closely enough. Because how can the shadow where the daylight falls on the doorsill be boring? Since when are the folds of that blanket I am looking at "ordinary"? How, in a room with countless shapes and corners and shadows, is there nothing at all to photograph?

I've been looking through too wide a lens. It's time to pull out my 50mm lens and take a new look at my environment.

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My sleep patterns are screwed up. On Thursday and Friday nights, I was awake past 1 AM. This morning I was awake until 4 AM. I slept 5 hours. I am awake, but not quite alert. It would help if I rode my bike, but I am still anxious over being uninsured for the first time in my adult life and cannot bring myself to hit the streets long enough to even get to the park. It didn't help that I just read about a cyclist who broke his collarbone and a couple of ribs in a race not long ago. My vague thoughts of taking a spin in Forest Park seem to have deserted me after reading that tale.

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Last night I spent an hour or more on YouTube watching documentary footage of morticians preparing bodies for funerals, with one or two short clips on how cremation is done. Though they did not answer my questions about what dying is like for the one about to experience it, they were interesting. I understand how Aunt Mo's body will be prepared this week, and that makes the events of the past few days feel more normal (as opposed to surreal).

I wish I could ask her what death is like. I have heard the theories and the religious philosophies, and they do not satisfy me. The religious philosophies are the most unsatisfying, because I was told a lot of religious stuff all of my life, and so much turned out to be false at best that I am skeptical of it all, now. Too bad the ones who could put my questions to rest cannot be consulted. (And having others claim to speak for them does not count. That fills me with just as much skepticism as all of the people I've been exposed to who claim to speak for God.) I know Aunt Mo would tell me the truth, if she could. And her view would be especially interesting to me, because she was deeply religious to the end. She believed in Jesus and God and there was no doubt in her mind that the Lord was by her side through everything. I wonder if her experience with death has proven (or disproved) the beliefs she clung to all of her life.

Comments

[bluesilverkdg.livejournal.com]

I read Delta Of Venus years ago, then forgot I had it. It was one of the treasures that I uncovered when I was packing, and I want to read it again soon.

I have also often wondered exactly what death is like, and have thought the same things as you. If only there was some way to really know...

I think Nin's writing is "pretentious and wordy", but...

[lapetitediva.livejournal.com]

I like it, when I'm in the right frame of mind :) I find I like her work better when I don't try to read it all at once. Just a passage here and there, and not necessarily in order, just randomly jump to a page and see if anything catches my eye. Read a paragraph here, a passage there, put it down until I'm in the mood for overwrought writing. That's what works for me. **shrug**

You are appreciated

[(Anonymous)]

In honor of Blogger Appreciation Day, I'm dropping in to comment at each blog on my Bloglines subscription list. I really do appreciate you and your writing, WL. And please know that I continue to pray for you in your grief. God bless you.