last night I came home at four in the morning. we’ve been doing this a little too often in the past few weeks. unintentionally as always, of course. yesterday was spent at a beach in cheung sha, lantau island. and so far it is definitely my favorite beach in hong kong. it spans out for 2 kilometers, incredible sand and waves crashing against the seashore. I think sea is my favorite sound and smell. we had lunch/dinner with more than a dozen people who were invited to celebrate my mother’s birthday. it was one of those unusually enjoyable afternoons, on a beach, with friends, a few bottles of red wine and amazing food. later when almost everyone else left home it was just the three of us and another close friend of my mother’s who is the same age as my grandmother but in spirit could be judged at least twenty years younger.
we had more wine, we shared some stories, talked about hong kong and life experiences. I just loved the sound of the ocean and its waves coming back and forth. I’ve read somewhere a quote, it goes something like, if you need music on the beach, you’re not getting it. and it’s true. but of course, on our way home, we couldn’t help it and ended up at michael’s again. there’s something funny and incredible about that guy. one of the best pianist I’ve heard since I am in hong kong.
and the night finished with a shot of tequila, my sharona and a feeling of having had a great day. and tomorrow is Chung Yeung Festival which means I get to sleep in on a monday morning. and now I am going to go out, for a walk, a cup of coffee, maybe a movie at the cinÃ©mathÃ¨que. what more could there be?
the air is free, not as heavy, not as humid. I am thinking about the future, planning, working, researching. there are many things to be thought of, to be looked at. but I am impatient. my harms and hands feel heavy, they are trembling from all the writing. too many words out there. I am definitely cured of the summer writer’s block. I am not sure why I have these regular periods of writing and then absolute silence. has it got something to do with the environment, my personal, or the weather? or all of it. excuses. or maybe I just don’t care that much as I seem to.
my room is filled with books notebooks photographs and scraps of papers which I don’t need anymore. half of them are pamphlets from museums and galleries from two years ago. I think this weekend will be perfect for putting away some of those things. I am not worried about anything yet. tonight was a simple night. a small family dinner with a friend from hungary. shrimp, spaghetti & tomato sauce our favorite. insalata caprese, black olives and red wine. strawberry ice cream, with fresh strawberries and blueberries for dessert. small pleasures of life. it made me think of the nights in DC also with ice cream and a cup of coffee.
I am missing it still.
the days pass by, mostly unnoticed in the rush and stress. the nights are cooler now, too. I am loving the weather, the heat and the humidity are slowly going away. here comes my favorite quarter of the year. I take a trip to starbucks every day, study, organize my bookshelves. random things of every day life. we’ve refurnished our apartment a little, the new colors make me happy. I am not sure what is missing. I am not writing much, most of the time I am just learning the æ±‰å—ã€‚
I can feel the year speeding up. it’s usually in september when I tend to notice the differences between the first and second half of they year but it seems I have become less dependent on these lonely traditions of mine. there is a few days in a year during which I used to spend some time reflecting on the past, as if on purpose. but not anymore. this habit is (also) going away.
hong kong island is hardly visible. it has been hidden covered by clouds and pollution for more than a week now. I cannot wait for the clear november and december days. by then though it will be time to worry about other things. I am reading a book about fidel castro and guevara. I’ve watched the motorcycle diaries a few weeks back, and read the book. since then I’ve become obsessed with their stories and the history, which they created and wrote. there is something incredibly powerful about it.
it’s been a while since I’ve had time to walk around the city for hours. I need to find some time soon, I am quite frustrated, being just at home.