The permanence of things.

July 2, Newark.

Jim arrived on Saturday. Yesterday Fridman talked to him and he told me he looked sad. "I come from my mother's funeral and now here's the funeral of my circus." Jim's mother died suddenly earlier this year.
There is a part of us that resists endings. I can't quite believe the reality of the circus closing yet, that after the two shows today they'll dismantle the tent and everybody will be on their way, just like that. Even in the most impermanent of situations, like working and living in a traveling circus, the idea of the permanence of things is always so enticing, so compelling.