It seemed unreal last week to be packing my things to leave Boston, but Bill had driven away in our car, and the boys flew home with the kittens, our lease was up, and I had a plane ticket to Tucson.
On our last day on Franklin St., we took pictures of each other on the walk. He had a banana.
I had my thrift store riding boots.
Before he took off, he left our pumpkin (with a special message of cheer) in the little square at Putnam and Mass Ave., our closest bus stop. It’s probably still there.
It says, “Happy New Year Turkeys!! (and peacocks!)”
Peacocks were added on by Bri, as legend has it they
also stroll the streets of Cambridge.
Leaving the Franklin apartment was hard; we were all in love with it; the peaky attic bedroom, the location, just between Central and Harvard Square, the nuttiness of the street with its tiny wonders; a little memorial park, a small free library, a cat named Hickory who goes on morning leash-walks with her owner.
This is not Hickory. This is a cat with the good sense to be at the coolest house on the block.
In exciting human news, the creator of the trophy wall under the Longfellow left a comment on the last blog entry; my heart soars to think that he is real, that I can email him, that there are probably other projects he has going or will do.
He made art, I experienced the art, I wrote about it, he experienced my joy; what that means to each of us, whether we ever speak again, is hard to overstate. Contacts like that give us the will to continue on, to continue making work that reaches out.
Somewhere, someone is getting it.
Blue jays and sculpture in the yard in front of the apartment on Franklin.
Pope Francis, that fabulous man, is now annoying the Koch Bros by speaking out about the climate crisis. He is reminding humans that we are caretakers of the piece of Creation we rely on for life, that protecting and tending to our planet is our responsibility but can also be our joy. He is tending humanity like he is asking us to tend the Earth, with love and a vision for a better future.
If he is serious about this, he has the power to change the US elections. It’s a privilege to watch him work, how clever he is to do one thing at a time. I wish him great success toppling the tables of the money men.
It should be an interesting year.
I plan to spend the next four months writing, and working on the back yard. I am planning to both permit and expand the grooviness in my B40; arbors have sprung up willy-nilly over the years and I need to go down to the City and get right with the Man.
And I want to build something mobile. Something cool.
Apologies for not having a photo credit for the above; this pic has gone viral so many times that even a reverse image search is functionally useless. It might be a scan from a book.
Also, excitingly, I have another addition to my throbbing Thrift Store Painting Collection. Bri and I found it at the Goodwill, on the floor. It’s big. It’s beautiful.
Evan and I went out to say hey to the Contemporary Art museum (the ICA) and have some chowder at Legal Seafood, on the water. We were both underwhelmed with the ICA collection, but I love the building, and being down by the docks. It brings back memories of watching the Constitution sail by from Fish Pier, next door.
It was a beautiful evening.
When I went down to Boston to get my mail for the last time, close my box, it didn’t feel real; the place is a part of me and I’ll be back when Spring hatches.