The Visible Woman...August 25, 2003

Looking back is a dangerous game. You may slam into your future while you aren't looking.

You know how if you look back while walking that you can walk right into a column or post?

Nostalgia can be fun, dreamy, amazing. But there are dangers. Reality is moving forward. From now to the future, rolling on. Taking time to look back may cause the future to loom up fast and you may walk right into it.

Today was all over the place. Almost in tears with nostalgia and then elated by things that are right here, right now.

I went through some more of Mom's things this afternoon. She saved my old report cards, of course. But also some letters I wrote from Europe in 1972. On my way home from my dad's house I was almost in tears. I just felt sad for my mom and the things she didn't get to finish and all. It's almost the anniversary of her death and I didn't think I'd mark it, mentally or otherwise, but obviously I'm doing that. I guess it is what you do and it's probably OK.

Tonight we went to see a wonderful documentary about a guy who has lived twenty years with HIV. He lives here in Austin. Making the film made him nostalgic about people he'd forgotten about. I've always found gay men of this approximate age interesting because they saw so many people die and, in many ways, die unacknowledged. They found ways to help each other that still benefit AIDS/HIV patients, many of whom are now straight.

At the movie we were sitting next to a couple that we've known a long time. They are straight and a little older than us and are friends with many gay people. She mentioned something about losing her mother this time last year and I mentioned going through my mother's things and finding my thirty-year-old letters.

"You didn't read them, did you?" she asked.

"Yes, I did."

"I always hate to see how silly I was?"

"Yeah, I was kind of sorry I read them."

As I tidy up Mom's things and my own, the photos, ticket stubs, letters and diaries add up to something all right. But I'm not sure it's something worth visiting.

Meanwhile, like the guy swallowing pills to keep the virus at bay, I have a future to live, to plan for, to structure. Looking back can't be allowed to take over for long or I might slam into that future.

Monday, August 25, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.
food	reading	writing	time	exercise	health and mood

Four generations...the three-year-old girl covering her eyes will be sixty in December (my sister)...everyone else is gone.	watch out looking back Looking back is a dangerous game. You may slam into your future while you aren't looking. You know how if you look back while walking that you can walk right into a column or post? Nostalgia can be fun, dreamy, amazing. But there are dangers. Reality is moving forward. From now to the future, rolling on. Taking time to look back may cause the future to loom up fast and you may walk right into it. Today was all over the place. Almost in tears with nostalgia and then elated by things that are right here, right now. I went through some more of Mom's things this afternoon. She saved my old report cards, of course. But also some letters I wrote from Europe in 1972. On my way home from my dad's house I was almost in tears. I just felt sad for my mom and the things she didn't get to finish and all. It's almost the anniversary of her death and I didn't think I'd mark it, mentally or otherwise, but obviously I'm doing that. I guess it is what you do and it's probably OK. Tonight we went to see a wonderful documentary about a guy who has lived twenty years with HIV. He lives here in Austin. Making the film made him nostalgic about people he'd forgotten about. I've always found gay men of this approximate age interesting because they saw so many people die and, in many ways, die unacknowledged. They found ways to help each other that still benefit AIDS/HIV patients, many of whom are now straight. At the movie we were sitting next to a couple that we've known a long time. They are straight and a little older than us and are friends with many gay people. She mentioned something about losing her mother this time last year and I mentioned going through my mother's things and finding my thirty-year-old letters. "You didn't read them, did you?" she asked. "Yes, I did." "I always hate to see how silly I was?" "Yeah, I was kind of sorry I read them." As I tidy up Mom's things and my own, the photos, ticket stubs, letters and diaries add up to something all right. But I'm not sure it's something worth visiting. Meanwhile, like the guy swallowing pills to keep the virus at bay, I have a future to live, to plan for, to structure. Looking back can't be allowed to take over for long or I might slam into that future.
JUST TYPING Nostalgia. Looking back. Seeing the old young. The dead alive. The future undreamt of. Antiques everyday. Now, now, now. And the future. Must face what is not what was or might have been.
		Food Diary. *About 11:30pm* Four pieces of turkey bacon. Salad with spinach, arugula, carrots, walnuts, shredded cheddar cheese, onions and Marie's Bleu Cheese vineagrette dressing. (Yes...exactly what I ate yesterday, pretty much, at about this time). *About 1pm* Boiled egg. *About 5:30pm* two bunless turkey burgers with grilled onions, cheddar cheese and A1 sauce *About 11pm* 3/4 ounce Laughing Cow cheese [I really, really wanted to buy food at the movies even though I don't like any of the food they have. So I bought a big Diet Coke which I didn't really want either.]
		Time flies.... By noon I'd spent over two hours at the club, run three precision strike errands, watered outside potted plants, eaten, cleaned up the kitchen. Then I spent an hour and a half organizing some pictures and getting myself cleaned up. I spent some time at Dad's. Slowly, slowly we discard, determine who to give stuff to, pack things. I spent time worrying about Roadrunner coming back online (their servers had worm problems?) We went to the movies so there was wait time before it started, the movie and some shorts and Q&A after. Only the Good was a fantastic documentary, by the way.

		Reading. From the Journals of M.F.K. Fisher. Almost finished with this one. M.F.K.F starts off young, a girl, and ends up an old woman looking toward death almost happily, as a relief.
		There just wasn't time for anything but the journal.
		Exercise Water aerobics for one hour. Thirty minutes on recumbent bike. Ab exercises.
		I was sleeping hard again this morning. Felt pretty good and energetic once I got rolling.