2003-08-18 - 10:38 p.m.
Driving away from the Portland (Maine) airport, it feels like I just left- I remember my bumpy flight in a small plane to washington-dulles vividly, then the long dull flight to PDX. It feels like the summer has been a blink of an eye. It's always like this on the first night back, writing pages and pages about "home" and it's effect on me. Everytime I prepare to see my parents in person again I vow to be less emotionally closed, less one word answers, less skulking around the house. But then the meet me, waving as I lug my bags from the plane, and my Mom talks so close to me and I feel so overwhelmed, I just start closing up.
Just last night, just this morning, there I was, in PDX (code for Portland, OR). Sitting on a bench by the glassy duck pond in Laurelhurst park with Jonny as he exclaimed, "That's how we're different!" When I confessed that actually, I hate jam and jelly and even marmalade.
Thing in PDX this summer worked out better than I ever dared to imagine. Despite my grumblings, critiques, occaisonal complaints, the city (and all the people I know there!) have a very firm grip on my heart. As I hugged her goodbye Osa remakred that a lot is going on in Portland- people are organizing, people are asking tough questions, attempting to approach "community building" with the complexity it demands, it's impressive. And yet, I felt too temporary to get involved in much of it, and that makes me sad, because I'm not really involved in any organized groupds in New York in that way which I think are both politically radical and emotionally supportive (my friends are, but we're not like an organization or something, which is good). It takes leaving to realize what I've left behind.
When I came to PDX this summer I was so sure- this was the last time. Time to spend the money and time I have satiating my desire for new places. And now I want to cancel all my plans and head back there- sublet my Brooklyn room (again), take classes at the Oregon College of Arts and Craft (or something) and count the days until I can come back again.
So what have I learned? This summer taught me a lot about teaching and organizing and the frustrations and joys of making something happen (like a zine workshop or the zine symposium). That sounds like a cliche activst statement, sure, but it's true. I have also learned that my feelings for people- friendships and romantic interests both- won't fit into what makes the most sense logically for me. And to accept that- to make the best of it. I am trying to stay strong, but the past two months were so wonderful (and yes, they were frustrating too) that I just want to cry my eyes out right now.
Last night I had a going away tea party and Steve and I (aka Mapquest To Your Heart) and Iris, Jack and Steve Kramp (visiting from Iowa City) played an acoustic show in the driveway of Morgan and I's house. It was so beautiful- my friends sitting around, playing and listening to eachother's music on a cool August evening. Then a walk to the park with Jonny, and buying ingredients for late night salad at Zupans (and running into Dana, I love PDX in that way). This morning I was part of on of those annoying couples you see at the airport- hugging and hugging until you can't wait anymore to get on the plane.
Now Mapquest To Your Heart songs are stuck in my head, humming,
"...and I could wait so long, almost 'til forever, there's nothing to decide, except for where and when, not whether..." (Steve's lyrics) or alternatively, "Time goes quicker than you know, and I'm wondering where our summer's go, counting the days left in this place, with too many hard decisions to make..." (mine).
So thank you PDX and everyone in it for being a teacher and a friend, I'll see you soon, or better yet, come see me.
