Earlier this fall I spent seven weeks traveling through Italy and France, including four weeks at a residency in Tuscany. Olive branches, watercolor pencils, creaky beds, dark hallways, tomato, almond, ghost towns, tagliatelle, Campari, attic windows, walks through the forest, stolen pomegranate. A terrace at dusk. Connection and deep laughter cut with extreme time alone, outside, wind blowing across my face.
When I wrote out my own Moon Lists this month they were undoubtedly painted by this experience. I have been working to figure out what to do with my feelings, which exist someplace between mere sentimentality, heightened gratitude, deep wonder, and a vague sense of mourning. When friends have asked about my time away I’ve answered, “It was great!” But…it’s complicated. I suspect that’s what we’re all working with, always. Next month I’ll try to give myself permission to find more words.