photo beautifully captured by muy lover Emily Friedlander
25 January
11.53am
A new pair of specs.
Drove to Masterton yesterday, a big step, back in the car and driving. Had an appointment with Budget Specs or something like that. Hoped to come away with a new set of lenses for my glasses and sat through a bunch of tests and over 30 minutes or close on an hour and the bill was 30 bucks, amazing. However :) the bill for the whole session, including lenses for two sets of glasses, using my own frames was nearly 700 bucks. Ouchie Wawa! I had hoped to get new frames but the selection sucked and so stuck with my own frames. Then off to Aratoi the local Wairarapa Centre for the Arts and History. I had entered a photograph, hoping it to be included in the Wai Art Review, it wasn’t :) but I needed to go back and take my time and look more closely at the art that was included, some very talented artists live and work in the Wairarapa. My framed image ended up in the Salone de Refuse in Carterton and so down I went to pay my respects and to make sure they hung my contribution so it wasn’t simply a reflection of light. At both places I spent time with friends chatting away and enjoying being able to get out and about. My mobility is an issue but I can drive and it was great to get on the highway. After the galleries I explored a couple of back country roads, gravelly and dusty, just the way I like it. I have lived in large cities, from Sydney to New York to Los Angeles to Wellington, for most of my life and getting out into the country, the back blocks, the boonies, has been a priority and have done so over the years, a great deal of exploring.
Peaceful and expansive, that is what I get.
Then, this morning, lying in bed, reading, I finished The Great Gatsby. Food for thought. Along with Steinbeck and Hemingway and Grey, a great read and a great piece of writing . . . or is it?
I read it over 3 sittings. I feel I need to read it again, almost immediately. It appeared that I blinked a couple of times and missed an important part of the plot. I truly loved the story and the way it unfolded as the characters unravelled but would I call it GREAT! A great novel?
I really need to make a considered judgement. I love reading. I guess for great writing Steinbeck sits at the top of my list. Challenging. Rich. Satisfying. Writing I will revisit and have. So where does Gatsby fit in my reading lexicon? As I said I blinked a couple of times. I enjoyed experiences somewhat similar out on Long Island Sound and the Hampton’s and in New York. Not totally but somewhat. Those experiences showed me a shallowness in those who would project an educated, wealthy mind set but in reality, not very intelligent. But then again, in my own little world, growing up in New Zealand I could say the same thing. Old money. High education. School titles. What does it all mean? My own parents seemed to aspire to something beyond their abilities and me as a kid growing up in that tripped over and over. Totally confused I blanked big hunks of my younger years. Especially when the bailiffs came in and took the lot, reducing us to a much lower standard of living. For me it felt very demeaning and I experienced great waves of shame. I can only guess it effected each sibling in a way only they can explain. As for myself, well I had no problem earning money and the flip side was, I had no problem spending money. Today it’s vastly different. To earn is a challenge that appears beyond me today. My intellect appears more available than ever and I am in more gratitude than I ever was. I have made millions and spent millions. Seriously. What more can I say. What happened to the shared knowledge, the wisdom that is meant to be passed on from parent to child? Maybe, like in Gatsby, I blinked. That does not mean that I have not enjoyed every single moment. In fact I feel quite privileged to have lived the life and experiences I have. Gratitude comes to mind. Enormous gratitude for the experiences, both good and bad. It has me smile to think of the paradox. I should be so lucky. And, along the way my friends have stuck it out as I have stuck it out, no matter what. Fortune, misfortune, there is no difference. It’s all life. Shared experience I like to believe. I smile. All my favorite writers died younger than I am today, yep, all of them. Same with artists. Same with many of my friends. So what’s this attachment we have to growing old, living to 100? That is what I wished as a kid. 100 not out, like a cricket score. Today I know I have done enough, I also know I have more I would like to do. Explore my writing, finish my documentaries, sell some photographs. Grow old with muy lovely lovr, Emily. That was my dream. Travel, experience life together. Enjoy each other, encourage each other, inspire and motivate each other as we do today and so I am going to stop right there and state unequivocally, that we are living the dream, and for today that is enough. Living life in the moment, one day at a time. Period!
