Friday, July 26, 2013
Sweet Bird of Youth
I took Olga to Kensington Gardens yesterday, where we had a long walk and a romp with her Kong toy (or what's left of it -- she's gnawed it down to a mere stub of its former self). The grass that a month ago was long, lush and green has turned into brown straw. That doesn't stop Olga from rolling around in it joyously.
Last night, Dave and I went to see "Sweet Bird of Youth" at The Old Vic, starring Kim Cattrall of "Sex and the City" fame. It's a suitably melodramatic Tennessee Williams play, filled with unsavory Southern caricatures -- a slavering redneck political boss; a drifting, wraith-like damaged girl; vengeful good ol' boys. It's a good production about the relentless forward march of time, and the need to move forward with it, rather than get consumed by the past. Both Cattrall and her leading man, Seth Numrich, did a great job. We especially liked the set, a weathered, columned Tara-like facade with drifting curtains.
I woke up depressed this morning, after a night of strange, tumbled dreams about my family and friends in the states. (I blame Tennessee Williams!) Nothing very specific or alarming happened in the dreams; I just feel like I'm missing so many people, and maybe I'm not keeping up with everyone like I should be. I've become so lazy and passive about staying in touch. I browse Facebook and "like" other people's posts, and occasionally post things of my own -- mostly dog pictures, lately -- which I assume (probably wrongly) that all my friends see. But it's been ages since I've written a substantive e-mail to anyone, much less a letter. Maybe I need to make more of an effort. I don't want to be consumed by the past, or relive it, but at the same time I want to maintain continuity in my life!
(Photo: A woman reads in a grove of plane trees in Kensington Gardens, yesterday.)