Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
The rest of us.
June 19, Bangor.
Something strange happened to my eyes this morning, out of the blue, and froze me in fear.
We were driving around looking for a grocery store in the little town of Bangor when suddenly a ring of bright serrated lights appeared in my vision, slightly to the right, and wouldn't go away, like a film between my eyes and the world, the ring growing bigger and bigger and finally disappearing but leaving my right eye weak and stretched.
This is my worst fear: everything is going on as normally as it can, you get up every morning and deal with what comes the way you've always done, and then suddenly, you don't know why or how, there is something wrong with you, some disease is there in you that you didn't know even existed, or it is a too well-known one, and your life as you know it is over. From then on you belong to the ill, the battling, that vast congregation that moves invisible among the rest of us blind jesters, bearing their suffering unsung and quiet, or sometimes a shuffle or a cough, an ambulance siren in the night, bearing on with their weight as best they can, mostly, comfortably invisible to the rest of us in our cocoon of self-confidence and lightness, our fool's paradise.
The ring had faded but left a fiery scar on my psyche.
Something strange happened to my eyes this morning, out of the blue, and froze me in fear.
We were driving around looking for a grocery store in the little town of Bangor when suddenly a ring of bright serrated lights appeared in my vision, slightly to the right, and wouldn't go away, like a film between my eyes and the world, the ring growing bigger and bigger and finally disappearing but leaving my right eye weak and stretched.
This is my worst fear: everything is going on as normally as it can, you get up every morning and deal with what comes the way you've always done, and then suddenly, you don't know why or how, there is something wrong with you, some disease is there in you that you didn't know even existed, or it is a too well-known one, and your life as you know it is over. From then on you belong to the ill, the battling, that vast congregation that moves invisible among the rest of us blind jesters, bearing their suffering unsung and quiet, or sometimes a shuffle or a cough, an ambulance siren in the night, bearing on with their weight as best they can, mostly, comfortably invisible to the rest of us in our cocoon of self-confidence and lightness, our fool's paradise.
The ring had faded but left a fiery scar on my psyche.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Courtney.
June 18, Oxford.
Courtney has been with us from the day after I came back from my interview with the Rhode Island Teaching Fellows and it has been so good to have her around. She is leaving tomorrow. She found work at the Clyde Beaty and Cole Brothers circus as a show girl and aerialist.
Courtney has been with us from the day after I came back from my interview with the Rhode Island Teaching Fellows and it has been so good to have her around. She is leaving tomorrow. She found work at the Clyde Beaty and Cole Brothers circus as a show girl and aerialist.
The Delara Duo.
Sara and Delena are doing an aerial act this year, billed as "The Delara Duo."
Sunday, June 17, 2012
A great place.
June 16, Carteret.
Great lot, what looks like a great place to live, with public offices, even a fitness center in the city hall building, a library, the post office, and brand new baseball fields and children's park all within a single well-kept and congenial area, where we are parked.
Lots of Sikh Indians, and African-American families mingling at the games all day long
Great lot, what looks like a great place to live, with public offices, even a fitness center in the city hall building, a library, the post office, and brand new baseball fields and children's park all within a single well-kept and congenial area, where we are parked.
Lots of Sikh Indians, and African-American families mingling at the games all day long
Night move.
June 15, Carteret.
We moved last night to avoid northern New Jersey traffic, and there so much of it on the turnpike at one in the morning I'm glad we did.
We moved last night to avoid northern New Jersey traffic, and there so much of it on the turnpike at one in the morning I'm glad we did.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Survival.
June 14, Lakehurst.
There was an accident on Route 9 this morning, a state trooper directed us to a u-turn and we had to find our way to the Parkway, and there scramble to get the exact change at the toll: nothing ever goes as planned in the circus and you constantly have to think on your feet.
I was thinking about this later on, and what I would take from my experience living at the circus that could help me make it at my new job, or even get that new job in the first place. Thinking on your feet, responding well to challenges, not to mention interacting with a wide variety of people from all walks of life came to mind, but the most valuable skill no doubt the overall flexibility that circus life requires as a basic survival skill, making do no matter what the odds, no water maybe, or no electricity, oceans of mud one day, too-tight lot the other, treacherous routes always, because the show goes on, the road is long and change is all you can be certain of.
There was an accident on Route 9 this morning, a state trooper directed us to a u-turn and we had to find our way to the Parkway, and there scramble to get the exact change at the toll: nothing ever goes as planned in the circus and you constantly have to think on your feet.
I was thinking about this later on, and what I would take from my experience living at the circus that could help me make it at my new job, or even get that new job in the first place. Thinking on your feet, responding well to challenges, not to mention interacting with a wide variety of people from all walks of life came to mind, but the most valuable skill no doubt the overall flexibility that circus life requires as a basic survival skill, making do no matter what the odds, no water maybe, or no electricity, oceans of mud one day, too-tight lot the other, treacherous routes always, because the show goes on, the road is long and change is all you can be certain of.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Ahead.
June 13, West Creek.
So the end is near.
All of this, my work, my life, for all those exhilarating years.
By the end of this month I'll be entering what is called pre-service training in Providence with the Rhode Island Teaching Fellows, a national program that recruits highly qualified individuals and trains them to be teachers who help close the achievement gap by excelling in high-need schools in America.
I am excited, and utterly scared about the prospect.
I am awed by the expectations and the challenges ahead, not just in this my new job, but in this new life, my life in the circus abruptly over before it started again, this life of constant challenges and endless flow but they are challenges and wild ebbs I know, this is the circus, this is home. Ahead lies an ocean of unknowns visited by storms I've never weathered, and the world I've left behind.
But the kids will go to a good school, the prospect of changing lives through education is as inspiring as it daunting, and we'll be back to wake up and smell the sawdust as often as we can.
So the end is near.
All of this, my work, my life, for all those exhilarating years.
By the end of this month I'll be entering what is called pre-service training in Providence with the Rhode Island Teaching Fellows, a national program that recruits highly qualified individuals and trains them to be teachers who help close the achievement gap by excelling in high-need schools in America.
I am excited, and utterly scared about the prospect.
I am awed by the expectations and the challenges ahead, not just in this my new job, but in this new life, my life in the circus abruptly over before it started again, this life of constant challenges and endless flow but they are challenges and wild ebbs I know, this is the circus, this is home. Ahead lies an ocean of unknowns visited by storms I've never weathered, and the world I've left behind.
But the kids will go to a good school, the prospect of changing lives through education is as inspiring as it daunting, and we'll be back to wake up and smell the sawdust as often as we can.
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