it seems there never really is a good time for a week of rest, although it is possible that my own inclination toward too-muchness hinders the process somewhat. I am still sorting it all out --- my reading time, and by extension my writing time, remains somewhat constrained -- and more often than not I feel simultaneously still and yet fragmented and pulled in many directions. I feel, in short, much the way I imagine the woman in this painting by Pablo Picasso feels. I saw this painting, Crouching Woman, at the McNay during my last visit to San Antonio, and it came to mind this morning as I try to juggle the things I want to do, the things I need to do, and the realities of negotiating a path through the competing demands on my time and my energy levels. I am not sure what Picasso actually intended, but I see a brilliant portrayal of the multi-faceted roles and demands placed on women, and the complex angles and folds created by the push-pull of intelligence and emotion, time and space, expectation and desire.
Perhaps I am reading too much into this. But that just tells you where I am coming from on this particular morning.
I am reading again, although only in short bursts, and the amount of time in which I can read varies significantly with the light and the size of the type. How much running around I have been doing also seems to have an effect on my vision. I never realized that driving itself was so hard on the eyes. Rain doesn't help, of course. Rather than writing I have focused on tasks that may be less appealing, but more important perhaps. Tasks which can be divided into short bursts of activity are doable: taxes, budget revisions, filling out paperwork for an appointment with a new doctor. Spending time in the kitchen is easier than sewing, or doing any kind of needlework. I can knit, as my current project is simple, but all too often my eyes are too tired by the time I sit, and I fall asleep. This struggle between energy and exhaustion, visual acuity and blurriness, has also upended my sleep patterns, which is not helping me balance my path through the push-pull of obligations, but I assume it will all sort itself out in time.
Despite all of this I have been out and about. I attended two fabulous concerts which I hope to write about while they remain fresh in my memory. There was one evening when there were three concerts I wanted to attend, and alas, it was also raining and I attended none of them. I've had a few lunches with friends. Last night I went off to the Clarence Brown Theater to see King Charles III, which I enjoyed to a point. I think the play itself is brilliant but although all the performances were good, and some were excellent, I felt there was an excess of earnestness and a certain lack of wit that would have elevated the production. There were also more than a few instances where the cadence of the iambic pentameter felt strained and my inner grump threatened to surface. But overall it was good and an enjoyable evening.
It strikes me as interesting that this, the most seriously dramatic performance I have seen at the theater, has been my least favorite production. It is odd because I have always been more of a fan of serious drama than of lighthearted fun on stage. Perhaps friends and colleagues who claimed I was too serious for my own good, were right. Perhaps I just needed to learn to let go. But this year, it has been the light stuff that has truly appealed to me, which I have most enjoyed. I saw Candide twice, even though I once despised the work, and loved it. I laughed so hard throughout The SantaLand Diaries that I could hardly contain myself, and I could have seen A Christmas Carol happily more than once. The same was true last year, and I still smile at the thought of a couple of contemporary light operas, and Beautiful: The Carole King Musical.. Perhaps it is not so much that I am changing, as I always had this sappy happy inner core, but that I no longer care if my sappy side is good enough and think that my inner grumpy-pants has had more than her share of time in the sun.
But now my eyes hurt and I have spent too much time here while other tasks are calling my name. I shall return when I can.
