Letter From New York 06 01 15 More musings from grey days…

It has been another dark and sullen day and I am a little cranky about that. We went from shorts to sweatshirts in about 18 hours. It was cold and dank at the cottage when I woke this morning, slightly before the alarm was to go off. I went and got my coffee and curled back on the bed, wrapped in my favorite robe, and read the news.

My first reading of the day was an alert that had come in from the BBC about the torture of a 14 year old by IS and I winced when I saw it, the barbarity of it was incomprehensible. IS is forcing children as young as thirteen into service as soldiers. An entire generation is being perverted and the world will be paying the consequences for generations.

Ahmed, the boy, was caught on video by a man who has since deserted IS and Ahmed himself has escaped. But hundreds, thousands, remain and are being taught to be creatures of hate. My mind dazzles.

In the meantime, 41 have died in another IS suicide attack. What draws individuals to suicide attacks? I want to know. I really do.

While IS creates its havoc with suicide attacks, al-Abadi, Prime Minister of Iraq, is plotting on how they will take back Ramadi. The meeting is being held in Paris, far from the suicide bombers and the disintegration that is Iraq. The land has run red with blood and it is nowhere near a solution.

And that haunts me nearly every night though it does not infest my dreams. In my last, very colorful dream I was working with Tom Hanks and Meryl Streep on a film that neither of them should have been in at the age they were. It was very complicated and I woke up amused.

In my dreams, I would be in Greece, which is where my friend Winn is, sharing photographs of places that I haunted in other times of my life and I remember them fondly. He posted just an hour ago a photo of himself outside of Franco’s, a bar and club on Santorini, a place where I spent many an evening watching the sun set, understanding in those moments of glorious sun fall, why the Greek myths have been so powerful It brings a smile to my face and I am so glad that I have experienced it and am so glad that Winn is experiencing it.

The sun is setting here in New York but you can’t see it because the sun is hidden behind the drab grey clouds that have dominated that last 48 hours. It makes me want to be home, cuddled on my couch with a fire in the Franklin stove with a good British mystery on the television.

Bruce Jenner is making his first appearance as a woman on the cover of Vanity Fair and has chosen the name of Caitlin for himself as he moves from man to woman. What a journey that person must have had in his/her life. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to take it. I saw some photos online today. He/she does not look bad and I wish her/him well as she/he continues this process.

Life is a process. I’m going through my own process right now and sometimes I find it exhilarating and sometimes I find it exhausting. But it is a part of a journey and that is what life is all about: it is a journey, from the moment we are born until the moment that we die.

As the night goes into the grey, I will wrap up. I am going to meet my friend Robert and we’ll have a bite to eat and then I am headed home to the little apartment, where I will read a bit and then fall asleep, to wake in the morning to the next round of news.

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