“How many thousands have I spent on perfume and alcohol, cigarettes and Turkish baths, disappointing trips and third-class movies; how many months in silent bars or parks, expecting, in a chair with a book not reading, or waiting in line, waiting in line? Who will tell me it’s a loss when I know life must be for pleasure? The parks were balanced by museums, the baths by oceans, bars by composition, and the dreaming chair by books finished. Nothing is waste that makes a memory.”
— Ned Rorem, The Paris Diary & The New York Diary: 1951-1961
Life seems like it is becoming softer now. The way I talk to people, the way I hear music, the way I cook food, the way I handle difficult moments. There is a sense of lightness to everything. I think I am realizing nothing is really that serious except the way I treat people. Life is becoming beautiful because I am letting it unfold into its natural state. My clouded judgement made my heart feel cold and my eyes see the colors a little less vibrant. Acting with love and intention in every movement has brought out the magic in the little things. The world is only becoming softer because I am. It has always been that way.
