4/12/11

The last time.

Graduation happens again and again. Good thing we never say goodbye, or I'd be depressed about so many changes.
Half the Center will be new people in spring semester. New people. So many new people. Some not knowing. Not interested. Not ready and awake. Not wanting to write. Not here nor there nor anywhere.
Ma, I think, finally, they're singing my song some place else.

6 comments:

Matthew R. Hall, Esq. said...

I finished Steve Martin's Born Standing Up today (like, ten minutes ago), and in it, he explains why he ended his stand up career in favor of making films. One night, a giant V-guitar hadn't descended during his performance of "King Tut" like it should have. He went backstage over the show, threw around jackets and things in a rage, and realized his anger wasn't over the guitar but over the loss of contact with what he was doing, an artistic crisis.

I'm not saying that you've lost contact with Art or that you're going through precise motions--from what I've seen (for three years now?) you've always emotionally invested yourself in our growth and success, sometimes to exhaustion. (What kind of a boss does that?)

And maybe the timing isn't so coincidental. Half the center and almost all of the current assistants you've really had a chance to work on have left as of last week. I don't know. It just seems like a natural time to break away and start writing for yourself again.

But then again, you're consistently changing lives for the better in a selfless devotion of your time and energy to your employees. Maybe there are more people you can help?

If this comment had a Twitter hashtag, it would be #sweetlyunhelpful.

Sky said...

#sweetly unhelpful actually helped since I'm trying to name this. It makes it less scary to name things. I do think it's an end-of-life "artistic crisis" (since it can't be a mid-life crisis) mingled with exhaustion. And the timing does seem right, mainly because I'm craving Mediterranean olives and baguettes, warm spinach salad with goat cheese, plus blackberry crepes sprinkled with powdered sugar--certainly strong signs to leave Rexburg, ID.

Jami said...

So where to, Sister Morgan?

Crystal said...

Somewhere warmer, with space for trees and horses and stars at night.

Sky said...

I'm really puzzled about where to go. South, maybe, toward more sun? Forward your life to 64 (I promise it comes sooner than you would ever dream it could). What would you do if you got to my age and found yourself in my situation?

Crystal said...

I would do all the things I'd always dreamed of doing, planned on doing, but for some reason never did.
I'd find a place close enough to family and friends that I could have company when I wanted it and far enough away that I could sit outside and write with only the trees around me. I'd go somewhere warmer (which wouldn't be hard, since you can't get much colder than where you are now). Close enough to a city that I could go to museums and plays and book stores. Somewhere with good memories or none at all.
Or I might just revert back to being a hippie and travel for the next 10 years.