January 21, 2014

Moved things to the Riverside office in the dark of the morning, making sure to pass by 51 so the lingering presence of the trucks and vans could whip me into rage. But the last of Stewart’s moving trucks departed as Russell pulled up in the circular drive. We went through the rooms deciding what and how to paint. Bought the materials myself because Maria needed Russell to come home and wish her luck face to face before she went to auditions. Sigh. It was the first time I allowed my excitement to come to full boil, there seeming now to be no conceivable block that could prevent it from happening. The house is lovely, and satisfies me completely. Determined that I will in fact be able to see the moon rise and set just as I do here. The ground is already bulbed and seeded in my mind. Children live across the street, and I could hear them playing. We will not be painting the kitchen– which is a cool pale gray–so I began to move kitchen things in. I wanted the first thing to come over to be ceremonial. It turned out to be wine, which I suppose it ceremonial enough. In one bathroom, which is a mossy dark green and which we also will not paint, I hung the big antique mirror that Harry my Pa Kua instructor gave me fifteen years ago. Stewart is some sort of restaurant entrepreneur, and he left me stacks of pate and other elegant, never-bought-for-oneself delicacies in the fridge. He warned me that the shipments will keep on coming, and I should consider them mine. The walk across the front yard to the mailbox is considerable. I couldn’t whip up proper hatred for the black walnuts, seeing them clean and slender in the winter light.