Part I: In the middle of the ocean in the middle of the sea in the middle of the plain a great rock rises up. Cliffs, smooth walls, there’s only one way in. One road you have to find as you wend your way along amidst the boulders and the cracks. Up high there’s aContinue reading “Story for a Copper Haired Little Girl “
Author Archives: Erika Bizzarri
August’s Heat: Part II
Even though the weather report says otherwise, the heat doesn’t show signs of abating. An early morning walk is still quite tolerable, perhaps to pick up a few groceries, go to the pharmacy or the bank. Otherwise, I stay home, where I realize it is time to get my next post in. In a senseContinue reading “August’s Heat: Part II”
August’s Heat
Because it’s August and because it’s hot Inspiration doesn’t seem to like the heat. Or maybe that I’ve been writing my blog since 2019. And sometimes I feel I don’t have anything new to say. Yes, it’s hot. But it was also hot when I was a child. Probably not quite as hot but thenContinue reading “August’s Heat”
In The End We Are Alone
A few weeks ago, a friend and I were leisurely walking the cobblestoned streets of my town, talking of this and that. At a certain point, our discussion turned to love and loss. “After a loss,” I said, “one has to sort of reinvent oneself. Find out who one is.” You looked at me andContinue reading “In The End We Are Alone”
Oh, ma
Oh, ma! Your mom is always your mom. My son dropped by – he’s in his sixties – and handed me a shirt and — a button. I suppose he could have attached it himself, although my eyesight is a lot better than his despite my years. My younger son would certainly have pulled outContinue reading “Oh, ma”
Mental Wanderings
Pre-dawn mental wanderings, images of things seen, read and remembered It is still dark enough, early enough, for the street lights to be on. How luxurious to stay in bed, knowing the day’s tasks can wait, not yet urgent enough to force me to get up. I pull the covers up around my shoulders. MakesContinue reading “Mental Wanderings”
A Bouquet of Summer
Someone left a bouquet of field flowers by my door. Flowers picked along a country lane. Years ago, my granddaughter picked a fistful of English daisies that insisted on growing on the lawn. They were not weeds for me, and for a day they smiled at me from the glass where I had put them.Continue reading “A Bouquet of Summer”
The Town Walker
Visitors to Orvieto walk the streets and wonder why there are so many signs telling passersby to move from one to the other sidewalk (if there is one). Sudden indications of a one-way street, leave the visitors unsure in which direction to turn their car and whether they can get around the upcoming corner. Really,Continue reading “The Town Walker”
Bedtime Readings
The day is drawing to a close. It’s dark outside… Too early to call it a day as I reach out for a book from the rickety bookcase beneath the window. Three shelves with lots on Shakespeare, quite a bit of poetry, essays, a few novels, old favorites, some going back to over forty years.Continue reading “Bedtime Readings”
Minimalism
Seems the Japanese are particularly good at that, aside from Marie Kondo. Keep only what you really need, what is essential. Two pairs of jeans are quite sufficient – one to wear while the other one is being washed. Coffee cups? Generally, you and your partner need only two. If friends come they will haveContinue reading “Minimalism”
A Poet
One who seeks an answer to the eternal why of life. One who loves words and the sound of words, the meaning and the structure, the way in which they inter-relate, attempting with words to build something finite where nothing can be added and nothing can be subtracted. But what then are words? They areContinue reading “A Poet”
Final
A photo. One of many in my computer files. Past, present and future. Like all photos but some more than others. Two people, friends, in front of a house. The house is gone but while the friends have aged, they and their scarfs are still around. It’s Christmas. There’s a wreath on the door. TheContinue reading “Final”
More Thoughts: Seven
At times I do get into philosophical thought. While I’m not into philosophers, occasionally something does make me think more deeply. When I was at NYU, we were told to write an essay about our philosophy of life – I remember thinking – but do I even have a philosophy of life? Perhaps that wasContinue reading “More Thoughts: Seven”
More Thoughts: Six
The importance of memory. I’m not sure where I read this piece by Borges. Knowing that the author was blind, made it particularly poignant. While it didn’t apply directly to me, I now realize how, as we age, memory will be our life. Borges – L’Artefice “He (Hector) had never lingered over the pleasures ofContinue reading “More Thoughts: Six”
More Thoughts: Five
Then there was the guard at MOMA where I worked as a student when I was attending NYU. Before becoming secretary to Monroe Wheeler, my job was basically simple – working in the ticket booth or selling books. That didn’t stop me from looking at the paintings whenever I could, or looking down from the rooftopContinue reading “More Thoughts: Five”
More Thoughts: Four
Since Augustine did not become a saint till later in life, this may very well be by him. Dancing with your whole body and mind is after all surrendering yourself to life. I’m not sure, though, whether his mother, Monica, would have approved. I would have left the angels nonplussed, for I never really learnedContinue reading “More Thoughts: Four”
Three
If life is generous and the moment is right, a dear friend may suddenly surprise you by telling you about a poem by Mary Oliver on wild geese, introducing you to this poet of nature, a nature that you miss now that you are no longer privileged to be part of that world. Or youContinue reading “Three”
Second Thoughts on Starting Anew
Once upon a time, say 20 years ago. When did it all begin? –and I don’t mean the eclipse. I mean when your life turns from being only what you plan and starts to include a dependence on what others think you should or shouldn’t do. Yesterday it was you who was boss, now graduallyContinue reading “Second Thoughts on Starting Anew”
Starting Anew
It hits you all of a sudden. I’m no longer young. That’s one way of putting it. And then your sons are no longer young either. Not like me, but taking their share of pills and medicines. What strikes me most, perhaps, is the lack of inspiration. Oh, it will come, my friends say. SoContinue reading “Starting Anew”
Easter
Resurrection on the way. Thanks to a pacemaker and the patience and love of friends and family.
Erika Bizzarri 