September 11 et alia

September 11 is Emily McQuarrie's birthday, so my sense of the day will always be tied to her, and to her birthday in 2001: She lives in Newmarket, NH, and the Friday after her birthday, calls for a candlelight vigil for that evening at 7 pm EST were circulated on the internet. So there I was, driving up from CT to NH, with Anthony still marooned in Denver after the grounding of the airplanes. I was lost in some beautiful little New Hampshire town, and people were standing on porches and sidewalks with candles in the fading light. It was absolutely vital that I get to my friends, despite the long drive. Physical presences became more important for awhile after that--due to the many physical presences lost. That's why I like the Towers of Light so much: they are ghostly, like a phantom limb, a presence that isn't quite a presence. Many people thought they should have been incorporated into the final memorial plan.

On a much brighter note, Karen, your apartment looks amazing! I hope I'll be able to come visit soon.

Celebrate New York

Stephen and I are spending the day watching all 14 hours of Rick Burns' "New York" documentary in honor of the city. It's an inspiring documentary that gives you a sense of just how many times New York has been laid low and struggled to its feet again--from the Revolutionary War, to the Draft Riots, to the 1970's.

One thing I (re)learned from September 11, 2001, is the pain caused by attachment--in this case, to a building, a place. I loved the towers. Stephen and I would sit on the Brooklyn Promenade at night and look at the always-different pattern of lights in the windows; I oriented myself by them when I wandered around Manhattan. Last night, the Towers of Light installation was re-lit, and it shocked me to see something--anything--in their space again. We might walk to the Jersey City Promenade tonight to see the Towers of Light, but I'm not sure; maybe we'll light incense for the people who died instead.

It Has Arrived!!

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (by Susanna Clarke) has arrived on my desk at work!! And of course, all I want to do is read it instead of actually working...if only I could swing a job where reading actually *was my job...

When I figure out how I can insert links in my postings, I'll post reviews of Jonathan Strange...

More later...

M.

Live from New York...

I keep telling myself that there's only one day left of the Republican National Convention and then the helicopters and sirens will return to their usual levels (which is still more than many people are used to, given the comments I get while I'm on the phone at work on any given day).

So far this week, I've witnessed a police officer and teenaged boy screaming at each other in the dripping humid 23rd Street F Train station, scattered groups of protesters who have wandered away from their groups and gotten lost, police officers trying desperately to control traffic via traffic cones and hand gestures (unsuccessfully, I might add). I've come to the conclusion that New York is simply a force of nature and cannot be controlled. (And I don't believe this is a bad thing).

Oh, and despite sightings by my friends and colleagues, I have not actually witnessed any visible Republicans. ;)

One more day. Just one more day.