Filling In the Outlines in Everyday Ramblings
- Dec. 1, 2023, 4:18 p.m.
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- Public
Although is has been raining we are getting skies like this periodically throughout the day. Little sunbreaks. We’ve got one of those atmospheric rivers coming in and an on again/off again flood watch. At least it is warmer. Much less treacherous down here in the valley.
The coffee group met yesterday at the old church. It works so much better than the upscale coffee house and is in a safer neighborhood. We pay $15 an hour for the room. We had a large group! 16 people. And four women! How cool is that?
Apparently, word got around about our Free Will discussion two weeks ago. The other three women are in relationships with men in the group. I was the only independent woman there. A free agent so to speak.
It was a good discussion that got serious fast. We were talking again about factors that influence behavior, and there were stories about a couple of grown daughters who have struggled with addiction, the burden of caregiving in terms of quality of life for the caregiver when the person being cared for hasn’t taken care of themselves. We talked about the biochemistry of psychosis and how many people are ruled by the chemicals swimming around in them. We talked about gratitude being a choice no matter what one’s circumstances and how some people get that, and some don’t.
We talked about how just one’s person’s caring and being inclusive can make a big difference in someone’s life. This reflection was brought on by the profile in the New Yorker about the sister of Kip Kinkle here who had a psychotic break and killed his parents and two class mates 25 years ago here in Oregon. Such a difficult and thought-provoking story.
And then the four of us in the room on the board left to go to Walt’s house where we talked about A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Prison as we wrap up 15 months on the film festival circuit with it. Just after the new year we are showing it at our Unitarian Church. We are having a bit of a party with a number of the actors, more who are out of prison now. The church is promoting this and giving us the use of the sanctuary for free.
The husband of the filmmaker (who died of breast cancer before the film was finished) came to talk to us yesterday about the inception and process during the years the film was being made. And the former head of our local film institute who finished the film with another friend came to tell us about their friendship with the filmmaker and the work involved. She is lovely. I also met the person on the board I replaced. She reminds me a lot of my older sister.
It has been interesting toggling between these two groups this week. Much stimulation of an intellectual sort. I am a little worried as Walt has an idea for a literary press for the group. First to publish the book he is working on now and then a book of poetry. The reason I am worried about this is I think the undertow might drag me right smack into the middle of this project. And guess who has very small press experience on the board. Eek.
I will say, and Mrs. Sherlock will confirm this, that I am feeling more like an artist than I have since a year or so after Mr. Finch died. It is like I have been curled up and am beginning to stretch out, expanding into the outline of my former self. It is kind of wonderful, and kind of terrifying, but not dull.
I will say that I love hanging out with smart creative people that care deeply about the world they inhabit. Oh, baby.
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