Women, do we marry our fathers and become our grandmothers? Do we end up living the same lives as everyone who came before us? Do we inherit our anxieties and pessimisms, fighting them back with diagnoses? That's pessimistic.
The housepainting project included a wall behind a very heavy breakfront, filled with the Nice Stuff. My mother explained where each piece came from. My great-grandmother's plates, made in England. An important Italian trinket given out as a wedding reception gift. Glass from Corning Glass Factory. A rock painted gold.
I got to go to a hardware store today. I just felt this overwhelming rush of potential. Each thing can be used to make something.
It's starting to get late. I wanted to read before I fell asleep from exhaustion. But a week of painting and reorganizing and changing furniture hasn't slowed my pancake quest.
I hope anyone's reading this. I think I'm just writing them to keep up with writing (I haven't even written a dream-record in at least a month) and keep a record for myself.
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