May 13, 2009

Janos, my cleaning guy, broke my heart yesterday. Seriously, he broke my Peruvian ceramic heart while he deep-cleaned my new apt. The apt. was filthy. I bought the heart at the New Museum, with Sandra, the day we viewed the Younger Than Jesus exhibit while Susan Sarandon did the same. Sandra got one and then I bought the 2nd one. It had a slight chip. I bought it because I, at the time, and even, a little, still now, had a broken heart. The fact that it's now cracked makes me like it even more. I am going to glue it together and place it on my Saarinen coffee table. A memento, a reminder, of my the time my heart was most cracked.

The new apartment is tiny and crammed and I go between loving a hating it. The Gemini in me, you know. But I am not going to be there much this summer. So small is good. It will keep me from accumulating more shoes. And clothes. And chairs. And books. And art.

I have enough. Really, I do.

Besides, I am working a lot and intend to spend all my free time at the beach this summer. Sunbathing. Relaxing. Catching up. Reading. And writing a book. Yes, you heard me, I am going to start writing a book.

I do find myself happy to be alone in my place. Even more now that the grime of the disgusting previous resident has been wiped away. Now I just need to paint and edit and I will be set. The loudness of Christopher street below, the sloping crooked floors, the 3 flight walk-up, the thin walls and tiny stove and lost dishwasher. All these things are the trade off for freedom. Alone time. Space(mental). It is worth it.

I walked outside today. Crisp and 70 degrees. Gingham and polka dots and yellow suede Bally loafers. I walked the West Village. I passed bakeries. And Rebel Rebel. And tree-lined streets. And I smiled at where I live now. Happy and sad. Cramped and free. Awake and in flux.

And happy.

I'm not alone. I feel loved. And I have a second heart. Solid and blue. Carved from stone. Unbreakable. It too is on display on that Saarinen table. It's mate is out there in the world. Reminders of both Bradfords: broken and strong.

Only love can leave such a mark. Magnificent, you too.