I needed to read this part today: "It reminds me that I can become anything I’d like. It reminds me that humans are impossibly fluid. We can make and remake and evolve and shift and change and become and through it all, we see bits and pieces of ourselves, old and new, reflected in the eyes of people we’ve never even met."
Also, when you set this scene: "Around us, the restaurant is filling up fast. Background noise begins to rise like the tide: the clatter of forks and plates, high-pitched peals of laughter, crushed ice vigorously shaken in a cocktail shaker. Servers weave in and out of the crowd, carrying glasses of wine, baskets of focaccia, platters of pappardelle. Frank Sinatra floats from the speakers."
Loved this piece, Grace. There’s so much of my own beliefs in there, from observing people in public places to the “fluidity” of who we are (things I “attempted” to put into words before). Your writing, as always, is exceptional. And “Behind me, someone quickly takes my seat” is such a beautiful ending. And this thinking routine repeats for someone else. Not necessarily someone who’ll write about it. Or write about it so eloquently and emotionally.
It's tragic when we forget how "impossibly fluid" we are, with the capacity to take new seats and give up even our cherished seats in service to the next character and the unfolding of the human story. Your article so well conveys the mood of letting go of our identifications to better enjoy the show we're a part of.
I needed to read this part today: "It reminds me that I can become anything I’d like. It reminds me that humans are impossibly fluid. We can make and remake and evolve and shift and change and become and through it all, we see bits and pieces of ourselves, old and new, reflected in the eyes of people we’ve never even met."
Also, when you set this scene: "Around us, the restaurant is filling up fast. Background noise begins to rise like the tide: the clatter of forks and plates, high-pitched peals of laughter, crushed ice vigorously shaken in a cocktail shaker. Servers weave in and out of the crowd, carrying glasses of wine, baskets of focaccia, platters of pappardelle. Frank Sinatra floats from the speakers."
*Chef's kiss*
Lovely piece!
Beautiful, G. “Sonder” is the word that comes to mind when I read your piece. You evoke the feeling so eloquently
Loved this piece, Grace. There’s so much of my own beliefs in there, from observing people in public places to the “fluidity” of who we are (things I “attempted” to put into words before). Your writing, as always, is exceptional. And “Behind me, someone quickly takes my seat” is such a beautiful ending. And this thinking routine repeats for someone else. Not necessarily someone who’ll write about it. Or write about it so eloquently and emotionally.
this is so so beautiful ❤️
It's tragic when we forget how "impossibly fluid" we are, with the capacity to take new seats and give up even our cherished seats in service to the next character and the unfolding of the human story. Your article so well conveys the mood of letting go of our identifications to better enjoy the show we're a part of.
This is a beautiful piece Grace. Felt like I was sitting in the restaurant and watching the scene unfold through your eyes. Super cool.