Friday, October 19, 2012

I wanted to know.

Belmont, 2012

The pale yellow leaves of October were everywhere but there.  I drank cappuccino while perched on a stool in a cafe just off Clark on Belmont.  My old neighborhood.  Angry youth howled from the corner speaker above my head.  I looked through the white coffee cup, doughnut, and small red dollar sign into my past.  Mom always wondered how it would feel to travel home without telling anyone.  I did too.

14 comments:

  1. Looks like you're in my neck of the woods :-). Hope you have a good time at home.

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    1. Really? I didn't know where you lived. My words above are a couple of plane rides back. I'm visiting yet another home now.

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  2. it feels a little secret when one does, like telling on oneself almost...
    n♥

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    1. And shouldn't we all keep at least one little secret?

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  3. Has it changed much over the years?

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    1. So much has changed, but I'm happy to know many things remain the same.

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  4. This image makes me feel I'm sitting there too. Revisiting anonymously makes me simultaneously a particularly fierce pull of memory, but also the feeling of seeing it all as though in a film. I like seeing the visit through your eyes.

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    1. Thank you, Kate. I like the "seeing it all as though in a film" perspective you describe. I've definitely been there, so many times.

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  5. Oh what a lovely idea - it strikes me as it would be quite freeing, and give one a sense of stillness. I hope you had (or are having) a wonderful time.

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    1. It was freeing, Annie. Definitely a good time.

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  6. I'm assuming that this home holds few people you would or could look up. Or did you surprise them by ringing their doorbell? But if it was, like Elsa May suggests, a solo trip, it sounds like one might be able to achieve the same peace one finds from a solitary walk in the woods. What a unique gift to give yourself in a city.

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    1. Truthfully, there were many people to look up. I quietly crept in and out. Something I've always thought about doing. It was a special journey into my past.

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