I heard you talking to your husband and teenagers about travel, how often you travel, and I turned to you, just like that
I asked you a question about traveling versus living, where the lines blur, carrying home around like a briefcase, or a pillowcase full of sweets, a treasure chest, an altar
You said you can understand how one can feel that way, how one can live anywhere
I told you about Salvation Mountain, you haven’t been there, but you’ve been to the Salton Sea (have you “lived” at the Salton Sea? I wish I could have asked
I’ve lived there)
And you said you were heading to Charlotte, your “most slept in bed” — that morning you woke up in Rome, you said
When you asked where I was going, I said Florida, but didn’t say why
That wasn’t important
What’s important is this: You offered me a new perspective — This is the state where I get the most sleep, cumulative hours of sleep
Wherever I go, I work.
Life is art and art is work.
In Charlotte, I said goodbye to you as I picked up my suitcase, ran to my next plane, never asking for any sort of way to stay in contact
You didn’t ask either, but there was no need
because in life, time collects itself and grows
Yes, that is life / and in turn, that is art.
