Posted by: jeanne | June 25, 2014

in the departure lounge wee hah

so i got thru checkin and my bags passed.  yay.  and i got thru security, why wouldn’t i? and now i’m sitting in the departure lounge with a nonstarbucks coffee and croissant, and watching the planes take off.

i’m in the international terminal, and it’s beauteous.  the grand hall reminds me of dulles airport, with a sweeping roofline.  none of the subtleties of saarinen’s design, unfortunately, but they do have cool blue lights in the ceiling that reflect all trippy and electric koolaid on the highly polished floors.

when we were kids, dad used to take us out to the airport, and in those days you could go right back to the deck underneath the tower, and watch them as close as you liked.  now it’s all behind a wall of security, but i have my memories.

i’m travelling alone, which is not a bother for me, and frees me up to watch everything as if it were full of significance.  which for me, it is.  this trip is a trip of self discovery as well as public art outreach and needed isolation in order to write my novel.  but i miss my home and family.  i even miss the dogs, in a theoretical kind of way. and so well prepared am i that i only had to get up twice in the middle of the night to position necessary items next to the bags (i doubled my supply of medicine, found a proper towel, and finally remembered to pack my bread pan (else why bring 2 lb of dried yeast with me (bread, not alcohol).

it’s interesting to be this connected while i’m going away from it all.  i’m on my phone, talking to jim, taking a picture of the tower, writing a blog post.  i’m scheming to wake jim up on saturday morning by calling him from iceland, so he can get to his movie set on time.  he bought himself a travel alarm this morning, and he can’t hear it go off.  it’s digital, and the tone it makes is too high a pitch for him to hear.  so i’ll simply call him up, as if he were right there next to me.  so bizarre.  and so fragile.

they’re going to start loading the plane soon, a tiny little puddle jumper.  i have a wing seat.  i love looking down when i’m flying.  it’s as if the world was made to be seen from above.

on my home planet, i have wings.

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