pilgrimage to the monuments

The Lincoln monument is by far my favorite.  I say this without question - every time I visit (and recently, that has been a lot), I walk in, admire the statue, then head to the sides and read the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural.   In addition to making me realize that I will never write that well in my entire life -- or sum up a nation's feelings (while "binding up its wounds") about a war that had spent the last four years tearing it apart.

Of course, there are other parts that strike me, but the end is particularly stirring.

...let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

My own dear friend who has "borne the battle" -- or, rather: bearing -- and I spoke a few nights ago.  I was surprised -- a blip, and a message from across the world.  It was sweet to talk to him, though there is nothing that makes your heart ache so much as knowing they have to go.  I worry.  Perhaps I shouldn't -- I should pray, but I haven't yet.   Instead, I end up finding my way to the World War II monument.

It makes me contemplative.

I think of the plans that were hatched to move with all of our friends to Spain and own a restaurant there, and it is my one exception to my rule that I will never be a server (due to me being inherently klutzy, incidentally).  Somehow Spain will give me the grace I need to balance tapas plates and I will learn Spanish and this idea was proposed to me 2 years ago, and I still cannot wait for it.  It's not set in stone, but it's something to look forward to.

In the meantime, I make my pilgrimages.  I stop at the paratrooper bronze, and remember our day at the Getty, all sunshine and ocean breezes.   

I like you STOP

"Would anyone else like to profess their undying love to me?  Thank you.  Get in line." -Sara W.

much.ado: the kiss
Originally uploaded by hummeline

Ah, romance.  Apparently not only not dead, but completely and utterly skewed.   The esteemed Sara W. from Gettysburg has joined my blogroll, with her blog: next time wipe your mouth before you lie to my face - a long title, but behind it a fantastic story about a cannoli!  Sara, like me, appreciates a good (& awkward) story, and as she's a server currently, she racks them up.  

It has been a week of proposals of love.  Sara has gotten a few -- one of which I watched via iChat! -- and Claire was proposed to via me, by an acquaintance who had gotten a look at her art.  Claire mistook the proposal for a proposal for art, which scared her (as she's full up preparing for her own senior show) but fortunately it was merely undying love.

Let's add to this that I have been invited as a +1 to a yet another wedding where I do not know the couple.  I was invited, and I quote, like this:  "Well, the best man is an old boyfriend of mine, and I know how you like awkward moments, so..." 

Swear.  Of course I said yes!  Apparently I am some sort of go-to person for this. 

Of course, this weekend I have a wedding for which I have actually received an invitation for - that of my very good friend Eric (who blogs, too, and has for ages!)    This means I've added more thoughts on marriage in my (kind-of-daily) study of the Lesson, in preparation for the wedding.  Eric has always been one of the most spiritual men I know, and his insights are astounding.   Because of that, I've been really focusing on this clear idea of love as my prayers for their upcoming wedding and life together. 

Mary Baker Eddy devoted a whole chapter on marriage (fortunately) so I have quite a bit to work with, but I love her ideas of masculine and feminine qualities uniting to create completeness. 

"These different [masculine & feminine] elements cojoin naturally with each other, and their true harmony is in spiritual oneness.  Both sexes should be loving, pure, tender, and strong. " -S&H p. 57

I like the end.  It's so simple, and I like that those four qualities are the overlap between the masculine & feminine, because they're not necessarily qualities we ascribe to both sides, and I think what MBE is saying here is that we should remember that.  There's also this element of harmony, which has been coming up in my reading recently, and I love that idea that a couple is coming together harmoniously, like notes in a chord.

les poupées russes

J'ai repensé à toutes les filles que j'avais connues, avec qui j'avais couché, ou même que j'avais seulement désiré. Je me suis dit qu'elles étaient commes des poupées russes. On passe sa vie entière à jouer à ce jeu là, on est curieux de savoir qui sera la dernière. Celle qu'était cachée depuis le début dans toutes les autres. On ne peut pas l'attraper directement. On est obligé de suivre un cheminement, faut les ouvrir, l'une après l'autre en se demandant à chaque fois : "est-ce que c'est elle la dernière?"



[I thought of all the women that I have known, slept with, or those that I have only desired. I said to myself that they are like russian dolls. We pass our entire lives playing this game, curious to know who will be the last. Who will be the tiniest hidden in all the others. But we cannot get her directly. We must follow the path, open them all, one after the other, and ask, each time: is she the last?]

It's more poetic in French.

Just finished watching Les poupées russes, the sequel to one of my favorite films ever, L'auberge espagnole, which is itself a love letter to Barcelona but also a wonderful coming-of-age story of the lead, Xavier.

The film was fine -- all about love, this time around -- but what I loved the most (apart from the writer-as-narrator, because Xavier is so honest) was this monologue from the end. I love that idea of opening up russian dolls, one after another, until finally reaching that person you've been waiting for.