Saturday, September 7, 2013

may my heart always be open to little birds

On my last day in Wilmington, NC, I woke up thinking about an e e cummings poem. This one pops in my mind whenever I travel:

you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you're young, whatever life you wear

It will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love

whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time

that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance

Spent the morning wandering around downtown Wilmington, just chatting to people. We were going to do some of the more tourist-y things, but they cost a leeeetle too much money. The employee at the tourist stand seemed understanding, and weighed in about how young people get trapped after college--especially if they studied in an area that's main industry is tourism (like the city we were standing in). If the only job openings are bartending ones, the walls can feel like they're caving in, I imagine...

Second stop: a quirky boutique called the Black Cat Shoppe. The owner was giving out cards for that day's special occasion (every day is a holiday there): the birthday of e e cummings!


I love coincidences like that. It makes me feel like I am meant to be exactly where I'm standing.

And from there I suppose I'll work backwards through some photos, starting with my drive along some beachy views before getting on my Greyhound to Newark, NJ...









Before that, DELSIH dinner at Indochine, Wilmington. (There's a restaurant by that name in New Brunswick, NJ. Small world.)



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