Some thoughts on rain
Here’s a video of a rainy day in New York City:
I wish it had kept raining today. I wanted to spend the day cocooned in the blue-gray half-light that fills my apartment on wet days. There’s something about the rhythm of the rain, the crescendo and decrescendo of storm clouds—with their lightning bolts, with their thunderclaps—passing that urges the words out of me. Instead I lay cocooned under blankets, spent another couple of years with Mrs. Woolf as she prodded The Waves from her pen onto the page onto the typewriter, as she fretted, as she admired herself in the praise of others only two sentences later to claim that she was unmoved by any of it. When someone gives me a compliment in front of a group of people, I find myself trying not to smile as if it’s somehow unseemly to bask for a moment in the light of admiration, as if just a soupcon of self-satisfaction is grievous sin. I, too, wait anxiously for the applause, the comments, the Facebook likes. Well, hasn’t anyone read this one? Was it awful? Are people bored already? Is this project too selfish, too uneven, too many things?
I did have a prick of understanding the other day when I thought to myself—ah, this blog is teaching me how to write again, how to shed the mannerisms I invoke when I write for work where I prefer not to write at all. What I mean is, at work, I prefer that those I interview tell the story in their own voices and my job is only to provide some scaffolding on which they can hang their stories, to ease the transition, or turn up the dimmer switch on those thoughts that need more light, need to be sharpened. It is my sensibility I suppose, but it is not my voice. Not my true voice. Not the voice I dream in, or in which I hear stories unfolding in my head. I come here and to my journal to find that voice again, say hello, bid it welcome for a chat, for a dance, for a spin up the coast. We are getting to know each other again, a first date after a long absence. We have not yet kissed but oh the yearning as we lean in toward each other, the electricity, the excitement, the inevitability…