Lonliness and Solitary Art
Lonliness can crop up most unexpectedly. It will throw a dart at you unexpectedly. After days of being solitary, for instance, happily reading, researching, and writing, feeling fortunate for living on Cape Cod where Jose produced wind and rain, a little loss of power, but not much more. There were six days of grey weather, but this morning, though the sea was covered in fog, the sun was out. Then, there it came, just a general feeling of missing family, and time stretching out, and a sense of what have I not accomplished. You know this mood, which is not based on reality, but might be a combination of low sugar, and working by oneself. You know the mood will pass, it always does, and in my fifties, it passes much more quickly. But here like a beacon came my cat, circling my feet, purring, and begging to be picked up. I did, and ate dinner, cheered.
I had made a simple summer squash stir-fry with rice. I was going to add a tomato, but the tomato was full of sprouting seeds. This is a process called vouvray–no, I joke–let me look it up–it is called vivipary, and the seedlings can be planted to produce tomato plants, if it wasn’t about to be October, or if you had a greenhouse. Dinner and research. Here are some recommendations: this movie; this book; this music, all of which was recommended to me by family and friends. Now, please go eat something and do some research.