Here We Are in the Years…

Nancy Flynn Musings, Stream of Consciousness Archive, Wisdom


…when the showman shifts the gears, lives become careers, children cry in fear, let us out of here.

—Neil Young

A dear, dear friend from my long ago past life was found this week. What a gift that is! I, who pride myself on not losing touch with those I hold so near and dear lost this person, how, I don’t even recall. But now he’s found, thanks to a mutual pal who braved the vagaries of Facebook to connect with him. And already, after a mere 24 hours of e-mail back-and-forth, man oh man, there are some people you just pick up with where you left off…

When was the last time I saw G.? 1978 or 1979? Before I moved up the road to Ithaca, New York? My son was 1 or 2; he’ll be 33 this coming June. A life, a generation unfolding, days passing, so much time gone. G. said in an e-mail, and rightly so:

“Time eats us alive. Mozart died at 35 and Louis Kahn built his first building after 50. It’s a minute by minute thing with no real boundaries. It’s a dream.”

Damn if he isn’t absolutely, ineluctably right.

Photo credits:

At the top of this post—Paul Trafford photograph of the Richard Serra sculpture Passage of Time.

The one in the post—a shot that John took of the damn coolest outdoor art exhibit: one-dimensional but stand-up photograph/cut-outs of African immigrants living throughout Italy. It was staged in Campo San Margherita, April 2008, when we were living in our Venetian apartment a short stroll across the Rio San Barnaba canal. Shortly after, it moved on to Roma.

Nancy Flynn
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