I just woke up thinking of a few more words to add to this post. But I think I wrote it in my dream.
Because I am in my chair and it is now early tomorrow and there is nothing on my screen...
And now it is the next day and I searched my computer and it is gone.
The entire fullness of what I imagined. So real. Now nothing but wisps.
Max took this picture of Sarah and me. I am not that into selfies, except with my girls and then you can take all you please. So thanks Max.
We were cracking up, at a Vermont cafe, in a situation that was like an Annie Baker play, and she picked up the magazine on the way out. The edition was dedicated to mother and daughter stories. Am I a Vermont woman now? Was she, by dint of being here, a woman associated with this place? Or merely with another woman bound to a new spot on a map?
And then he took this, in my studio.
Having my daughter visit my studio was like letting her crawl further inside my head. But she lives there already, so connected sometimes it is scary. Did you know that scientists have now found their children's dna in women's brains? It lives there, the largest umbilical cord. Oh, and children carry a piece of their mother, the genetic womb carried in nestled strands in the pink matter that pretends a brain. I have a poem about that, maybe two.
To be mother of a daughter and daughter of a mother, of a daughter, of a daughter.
And she had a dream, while here, where she was flying invisible, carrying me in the sky, to safety. Afterwards, she battled Voldemort, and won. Nice to be part of her kick-ass team. That she thinks I need protecting under her cloak of invisibility, or invincibility. Of course I wrote a poem this morning, instead of this post. Saying "I got this sweetie."
Another, taken at Bread & Puppet by Sarah, because she always sees me truly. And I am so thankful, to be lost in my head in this fairytale and to have her love that for me. Or understand the real/unreal world of words.
Of course she is a playwright.
And Max is a playwright.
Such a lovely thing to see them hold hands. Here they are, being devilish.
And now, I am waiting for my other daughter to visit. Maybe sometime with the woman she loves. Such times we will have...