#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Charles River, Trestle View
“Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that came down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien
It’s just water, falling from the sky, in sheets. Charlie, faithful companion, jogs along by my side and we go to the splattered river, as we do every day, because ritual and discipline are reassuring and grounding. I want to be out in the weather because it’s the earth being earth, and I’m grateful for sky and for river and trees over the Charles, bending, blossomed for spring, and shadow reflecting. From the trestle bridge, we stand a moment or two. Look up river, look down. All is quiet, all is solitary and splashed. I am not in a hurry. There is so much bad news, but not here. And I can be here for these moments, washed and refreshed. When I go in, I take a warm towel to Charlie. From my desk, I enter an international space: I attend a videoconference offered by a woman, a playwright I know from the Our Voices Festival I’ve run. She and her husband are hosting a fascinating online seminar, live, with about thirty people from around the world. This takes me out of my own home and I am sharing my home, and in the home of others in far off places. It’s stimulating and thought provoking. It changes my outlook on this very day as we talk about the meaning of home from a cross cultural perspective. And I get excited about a workshop I’m giving at the end of the month, a theatre workshop. My mind is buzzing with ideas. And all day it rains. One of my daughters comes and finds me, sits down at my desk next to me in my office and we have a nice talk. Then, Frank finds us, sits down, and we keep having a nice talk. In the late afternoon, I decide to take a break, maybe a nap, but once I’m in the kitchen, I decide to make the focaccia bread again, except today I will make two batches. Frank has offered to cook tonight, and we’ve asked our son if he wants to pick up food from our kitchen tonight: yes! So, my bread comes out perfectly, and Frank’s dinner too, and there at the door we say hello to our son and his girlfriend, and I cannot hug them, but I can give them hot food to take home, and warm bread. And a bottle of honey I bought from my friend in town from her bees; she left three beautiful bottles on her front step and I picked them up, because the golden honey is necessary, and it’s in the bread too.
Home in Times of Covid-19: An Online Seminar Series, Organized by Babel – www.babelcities.org
Sponsored by CHI – Center for Humanistic Inquiry at Amherst College: Originally, this seminar was established to explore how the rapidly urbanizing, technology‐based societies of today present both risks to, and opportunities for establishing “home” and social connections. Now, amidst the global COVID-19 pandemic, with students and professionals working from home, “shelter in place” orders in some communities and social distancing advised for everyone, our concepts of “home” and importance of social connections are taking on new meaning. Join us in these seminars with guests who bring unique perspectives in navigating this topic from their respective fields. Participants will find the interdisciplinary and transcultural views relatable to their own experiences and will be invited to join the discussions. Creative prompts will also be proposed. HOSTS: Ana Candida Carneiro, PhD; Visiting Artist in Playwriting at Amherst College, Artistic Director of Babel and Brian English, Urban planner, Executive Director of Babel.