thoreau

Auguste Rodin's sculpture of Victor Hugo at the Legion of Honor Museum in San Francisco's Lincoln Park

"MY DEAR FRIEND,—I believe a good many conversations with you were left in an unfinished state, and now indeed I don't know where to take them up. But I will resume some of the unfinished silence. I shall not hesitate to know you. I think of you as some elder sister of mine, whom I could not have avoided,—a sort of lunar influence,—only of such age as the moon, whose time is measured by her light. You must know that you represent to me woman, for I have not traveled very far or wide,—and what if I had?... You have helped to keep my life "on loft," as Chaucer says of Griselda, and in a better sense. You always seemed to look down on me as from some elevation,—some of your high humilities,—and I was the better for having to look up. I felt taxed not to disappoint your expectation; for could there be any accident so sad as to be respected for something better than we are? It was a pleasure even to go away from you, as it is not to meet some, as it apprised me of my high relations; and such a departure is a sort of further introduction and meeting. Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes."
- Henry David Thoreau in a letter (dated May 22, 1843

I've been reading from the letters of Thoreau lately - his side writings were almost more lush than his published works - he let go with verse and passion that he'd never thought one day a middle aged homo would be reading and studying. I posted this whole paragraph because it has so many powerful and delightful things to say.

He is writing to Ralph Waldo Emerson's wife. This letter describes his admiration for her - even though he had to remain at a distance because of her marriage and her higher position in society. I posted it with the image of the Rodin from the Legion of Honor - because - the Rodin sculpture was returned to the artist. Rodin said "oh - no - you misunderstand - it is finished."

Rodin saw Victor Hugo in the rock - but only to the extent that we see today. He didn't see anything more to "finish" about it. The client never paid him for it. so - like Thoreau's writing - whenever I return to the Legion of Honor - - this piece singularly haunts me because of it's finished unfinishedness. (silly term I realize - but it's what I see)

Part of my path these days is finding the way through life - without seeing life or my experience(s) as a path between point A and point B - that there is no "finished" until my eyes close the last time. There is a spark deep inside me that won't accept declaring any part of me finished or "done." My friend Lance

althrman always teases me that I never stop to smell the roses or find time to enjoy simply "stopping." I giggle - because one of the reasons I'm in design and the web for a living is that it is always changing and evolving - the new script to learn; the new video technique; the new this - the next that. It's simply how I lived.

but back to Thoreau's letter... I simply adore this section: "....Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes...." Always the charming optimist - the longing in his words says 'I wish I could have you right here every day to talk to and adore and enjoy, but I cannot - so I draw a line of latitude and longitude to where you are each day - and enjoy that like you were right here.' I look back at some people in my life I've had to accept that the best thing to do is to keep them at a distance - and draw that line for myself. Not losing track of them - but more - not fighting the distance that life sometimes places there. Will we meet again, spend time over a great meal and embracing as we see each other - spend time over a great meal - laugh at our great times and not let the pain of a path long left interfere? does that even matter. We build this web of lines and connections to people events and well - perhaps the longitude and latitude Thoreau speaks of us in our hearts. and as we move down the path or across the world - our lives become like the lines in a airline brochure showing all the different places we've flown - or been touched by the compassion of a like minded soul in our lives.

schmaltzy thought perhaps - we're all drawn into peoples gravity - we let them in and on and around us. we do. and when it is done and we've moved on - are we content to resume in unfinished silence? or what. its whats on my mind today thats all.