I've been experiencing a broad range of feelings. I'm grieving, I'm angry, I'm befuddled and probably always will be with regards to the question "how could people choose him once, then twice, and an incomprehensible third time?" I'll never know. It's going to be harder for everyone except the wealthy. What these MAGA voters fail to recognize AGAIN, is that the orange monster cares not one whit about any of them and never will. Thank you for your essay. It's nice to read a piece from you that's a little longer than usual. Be well, take good care and keep swimming! xo
As soon as I finish writing this comment, I´m going to look up the meaning of frondescence. That one wasn´t in the SAT vocabulary word lists I studied oh so many years ago. A pity! No matter what it means, I´m determined to use it in my own writing.
Thank you for this Elizabeth, and like you, I worked on my fiction both yesterday and today, for that retreat into the solace of language is always there for me, as you write: "Tomorrow I’m going to write some fiction because it’s one of the only things that every works to make me feel—different, at least, if not better. It’s only of the only ways I know to think about the unfathomable."
I was in Austin a few weeks ago, and went swimming at Barton Springs on an absolutely perfect day. I thought, "It's probably not always this perfect." Swimming there did make me feel better, that day. I know that cold water and wild swimming make us feel different, if not always better. At least nobody is supposed to shoot guns right next to the swimming pool. In my neighborhood, a guy has his gun range right next to the best swimming place, and we don't go there any more as a result.
“As I left I passed two women about my age discussing how disgusting the water had been yesterday, after the storm. “Dirty,” one said to the other. “I could see you fighting through it.”” The perfect metaphor. Thank you.
Yes I have been more anxious than I can remember ever being in the past decade. It’s coming at me from so many directions and I decided to tell the other side today, how they made me feel and I asked them if I should leave the country. No no no it’s not like that is what they said. But it is exactly like that. In the meantime, all the other compatriots down in Florida were celebrating as if. And it reminded me that I used to be just as naive. Ignorance is bliss. Anywho, I just finished my novel and I am in shock that I have been writing this story all along. I thought I was writing about the 1970s and 80s!
Thank you for the vicarious swim. And I like the idea of aiming to feel 'different' rather than trying to feel 'better' about it all. If you decide to move to Australia, you'd be most welcome.
I swam this morning feeling like it’s been a long week since the terrible election. It had been a day. Time change made me unstable. The shock of the election has me withdrawing like I’m swimming under, only coming up briefly to have the most tiny conscious thought about what just happened, then trying to go back under again. It’s going to be a long four years.
Those men holding their vile message boards were in front of my kid's school too (perhaps the same). Not that they weren't already on the verge, but I could feel some old world Mama ferociousness coaxing the claws. I followed the rules too and drove on by but damn, the ink on the results not even dry. Not sure raging alone in my car will suffice next time.
I read this while on my way to my weekly swim at the UNLV pool--I was in no mood to swim after having burst into tears throughout the day, but I knew I needed to do something instead of just sleepwalking. This made me feel less alone in my feelings. Thank you.
I had an apartment in the late nineties located in the green belt above Barton Springs and loved it there. Just recalling the area with it’s gorgeous old live oak trees is comforting as I grapple with living through the coming two years— until we can vote again.
I've been experiencing a broad range of feelings. I'm grieving, I'm angry, I'm befuddled and probably always will be with regards to the question "how could people choose him once, then twice, and an incomprehensible third time?" I'll never know. It's going to be harder for everyone except the wealthy. What these MAGA voters fail to recognize AGAIN, is that the orange monster cares not one whit about any of them and never will. Thank you for your essay. It's nice to read a piece from you that's a little longer than usual. Be well, take good care and keep swimming! xo
Elizabeth, I hope you can find compassion. I'm weeping so much for so many reasons today.
It is an interesting experiment to release two frondescence’s into an essay and then see if they reproduce
As soon as I finish writing this comment, I´m going to look up the meaning of frondescence. That one wasn´t in the SAT vocabulary word lists I studied oh so many years ago. A pity! No matter what it means, I´m determined to use it in my own writing.
Thank you for this Elizabeth, and like you, I worked on my fiction both yesterday and today, for that retreat into the solace of language is always there for me, as you write: "Tomorrow I’m going to write some fiction because it’s one of the only things that every works to make me feel—different, at least, if not better. It’s only of the only ways I know to think about the unfathomable."
This helped. Xox
Not better, but different. Needed that. Thank you.
I was in Austin a few weeks ago, and went swimming at Barton Springs on an absolutely perfect day. I thought, "It's probably not always this perfect." Swimming there did make me feel better, that day. I know that cold water and wild swimming make us feel different, if not always better. At least nobody is supposed to shoot guns right next to the swimming pool. In my neighborhood, a guy has his gun range right next to the best swimming place, and we don't go there any more as a result.
“As I left I passed two women about my age discussing how disgusting the water had been yesterday, after the storm. “Dirty,” one said to the other. “I could see you fighting through it.”” The perfect metaphor. Thank you.
Yes I have been more anxious than I can remember ever being in the past decade. It’s coming at me from so many directions and I decided to tell the other side today, how they made me feel and I asked them if I should leave the country. No no no it’s not like that is what they said. But it is exactly like that. In the meantime, all the other compatriots down in Florida were celebrating as if. And it reminded me that I used to be just as naive. Ignorance is bliss. Anywho, I just finished my novel and I am in shock that I have been writing this story all along. I thought I was writing about the 1970s and 80s!
Thank you for the vicarious swim. And I like the idea of aiming to feel 'different' rather than trying to feel 'better' about it all. If you decide to move to Australia, you'd be most welcome.
I swam this morning feeling like it’s been a long week since the terrible election. It had been a day. Time change made me unstable. The shock of the election has me withdrawing like I’m swimming under, only coming up briefly to have the most tiny conscious thought about what just happened, then trying to go back under again. It’s going to be a long four years.
Those men holding their vile message boards were in front of my kid's school too (perhaps the same). Not that they weren't already on the verge, but I could feel some old world Mama ferociousness coaxing the claws. I followed the rules too and drove on by but damn, the ink on the results not even dry. Not sure raging alone in my car will suffice next time.
Thank you for putting into words what I could not, for being faithful to the work and thus am example for me.
I read this while on my way to my weekly swim at the UNLV pool--I was in no mood to swim after having burst into tears throughout the day, but I knew I needed to do something instead of just sleepwalking. This made me feel less alone in my feelings. Thank you.
I had an apartment in the late nineties located in the green belt above Barton Springs and loved it there. Just recalling the area with it’s gorgeous old live oak trees is comforting as I grapple with living through the coming two years— until we can vote again.
Maybe I will find a pool.