Dear Friend and Reader,
FOR AS FAR BACK as I can remember, this time of year has been special to me. As a child, I preferred Halloween over Christmas, and the smell of the hearth at my father and mother’s house still looms on the edge of the scent of jack-o-lanterns lit from within. Mid-Autumn is a space where time takes a break and weirdness fills the gap.
And I’m not really sure ifВ the scene outside of my daily routine: the economy (which frankly,В is a word I am even sick of sounding out in my brain before I type it), the elections and of course the events about to transpire in the universe, isВ making this time of year seem more charged, or if I’m getting used to the pattern, able to recognizeВ current eventsВ as a new dimensionВ to the choreography of the heavens.
This year is the first one where I will put in my vote for the President of the United States of America. It is the first time in ten years that I have cut my hair. Today was the first time a door opening behind me sent chills down my spine.
The world to me is gaining a slow momentum, as though far off in the distance there is a traveling carnival and we are expecting its arrival. The sky seems close, like a curtain that promises to lift and reveal a lit up theater. I am nervous; I remember the sudden pangs of excitement I would feel in my stomach as a little girl when the lights in theВ cinema would dim. It’s happening again. But this time, it’s more drawn out. How odd to have all of these events occur on the tail end of the yearly celebration of death and return!