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domesticity
I’ve often said
the hardest part of settling down for me is being Domestic
not being all tgat domesticated
yet with a critical eye
I get blown away at all the little bits that gather
the dust that settles
I was a boy
you could never the floor of his room
currently
my bedroom is a walk-in closet
the bed was even layered with crap for a few months!
but I’ve moved back in (January 2, 2010… even a bit late on that)
yesterday I did a water cleansing ritual:
scrubbed the bathtub, tiles and sink clean
and changed the filter and washed my water pitchers (should have been
done on the solstice)
amazing how much cleaner the glass looks
and better the water tastes
and whiter the tub is
and faster the water drains
amazed at domesticity
but my kitchen still has a pile of stuff at the far (not that far) end
of it
I vacumed the rug, cleared off the end table
why do these simple tasks feel like such Events?
how often do you clean out your water filter pitcher?
oh, what IS all that film… red? black?
from the pipes or the air?
oh, new york: you’re so grimy…
but I do love living on a hill
on nights after rain, like this one
winter, no leaves to obscure the shiney street of the hill
the cars (endlessly) going down
light shows across my walls of all the reflections…
.iP
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