MIDNIGHT IN SHANGHAI
I can't sleep. I went out on the patio, where there's a superb breeze. If you can find beauty in concrete, it is here. The skyline again a wonder, so clear to peruse the view. We live in the air, reclaimed space. Barbara Kingsolver wrote somewhere that the population of the planet made a transition from the natural habitat of humankind changing from rural to urban, silently in 1996.
Mr. F. sits out on the patio, it's small but with a great view, on a chair or stool he brought from Dalian; there popular, it folds, small and low, simple made of wood and twine. The older men and women sit outside on during the summer months. I don't see that here, but Dalian took on an outdoor spirit in the summer.
He got into the groove with these things while I was too busy worrying about this and that, he rode a bike in a city with hills. Here we have lanes and a garage for bikes downstairs in the building. It's a labyrinth, we came about some animals and realized someone was living down there in a room.
Nowdays, I sometimes come out to see him in the morning, still smoking, bent over with his arms on his knees, waking up. Seldom looking happy, but he says it's just being half awake.
Tonight I sat in the chair and I smoked! That kind of a day. I'm glad he's excited about the year he wants to make for his students. I remember I had that excitement before several years of public school. It came back last year in the months preceding our move here, but from the first day at school, I was undermined. From so many directions. I had terrible insomnia all year, never Friday or Saturday nights, only when I had to go to work, not knowing which one of the discontents, the competitive expats would say or do something upsetting. I have never worked with so many nutcases in one place before. It really distracted me from doing my best, but most of the parents thanked me and were genuinely happy.
I keep promising to add pictures to my posts, but I've gotten out of the habit of carrying around the camera. A hard day. But the wind is blowing through the skyscrapers. We have double doors on the windows. The buildings are concrete. Sturdy for storms. Back to the sleep project.
Mr. F. sits out on the patio, it's small but with a great view, on a chair or stool he brought from Dalian; there popular, it folds, small and low, simple made of wood and twine. The older men and women sit outside on during the summer months. I don't see that here, but Dalian took on an outdoor spirit in the summer.
He got into the groove with these things while I was too busy worrying about this and that, he rode a bike in a city with hills. Here we have lanes and a garage for bikes downstairs in the building. It's a labyrinth, we came about some animals and realized someone was living down there in a room.
Nowdays, I sometimes come out to see him in the morning, still smoking, bent over with his arms on his knees, waking up. Seldom looking happy, but he says it's just being half awake.
Tonight I sat in the chair and I smoked! That kind of a day. I'm glad he's excited about the year he wants to make for his students. I remember I had that excitement before several years of public school. It came back last year in the months preceding our move here, but from the first day at school, I was undermined. From so many directions. I had terrible insomnia all year, never Friday or Saturday nights, only when I had to go to work, not knowing which one of the discontents, the competitive expats would say or do something upsetting. I have never worked with so many nutcases in one place before. It really distracted me from doing my best, but most of the parents thanked me and were genuinely happy.
I keep promising to add pictures to my posts, but I've gotten out of the habit of carrying around the camera. A hard day. But the wind is blowing through the skyscrapers. We have double doors on the windows. The buildings are concrete. Sturdy for storms. Back to the sleep project.
posted by Anonymous at 12:08 AM
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