Posts

Showing posts with the label processing

Mutability

Image
 Entry 1.    9:19 a.m. Shelly believed that when passionate love dies, you move on and find anew that passion from someone else. He was in his 20s, obviously. I would probably have made the same claim at that age had I been brash enough, believing that we deserve to permanently have such intoxication as that feeling you Willow, as I write . get when you are with a new lover. I am not in my 20s, they may as well be as far as the dark side of the moon now. Passion has it's place, even now, and even if only in short glints. But there is for me, the understanding and appreciation now for the aged scotch, the fermented grape and the steady bough of a long standing oak tree that I didn't appreciate in my more impetuous, less thoughtful days. Longevity has it's place. There is something more tender and profound in a lasting love, of a marriage fired by adversity and struggle that still carries on decade after decade. I look at the love of my friends Aimee and Robb or Eachean and...