from Richard Wilbur's "Love Calls Us To The Things of the World"
Outside the open window
The morning air is all awash with angels.
Some are in bed-sheets, some are in blouses,
Some are in smocks: but truly there they are.
Now they are rising together in calm swells
Of halcyon feeling, filling whatever they wear
With the deep joy of their impersonal breathing;
After the rain yesterday at the dinner hour: the gift of light, of fabulous bokeh.
This might be the last post I whinge about my health, the effects of Bell's Palsy. My face is nearly clear now, not quite, but nearly. It's been 20 days of feeling not quite myself. Last night taking these photos, my eyes were hurting. I've been putting warm compresses on them, and putting natural tears in them regularly. So I snapped these as quickly as I could and that was that. As for the other effects of all this: I'm still aching and tired, really very and at times sublimely tired. Related to BP? I don't know. When something like this happens, you can't help but saying to yourself, you must change your life. And I think I really must, but am at present too tired to know exactly the ways in which it will. In truth, it's at the core about money - making art always is. When my head felt like it was popping off 20 days ago because my computer crashed - it wasn't the lost files I was so worried about. (I had mostly everything important backed up). It was the money needed to replace the computer. And then all the other worries related to money flooded in. (Usually I'm half good at being in denial). I know we live relatively very richly, we do. But maybe there are ways to do things better. And maybe the answer isn't to go on working just part-time, writing obscure books. (I don't think I have much else in me but obscure books is the thing....). Well.
In the meantime, my small garden awash with angels, with light. More light, please.