falling angel notes from harvard – 27

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tuesday november 14, 2006 10:56AM

i am in heaven.

this bakery called hi-rise. in the shadow of my apartment.

a group of five sit at the table across me in this small room in new england. (i find out later they are theology students at wesleyan)

theology. they are talking of Jesus Christ. in an intelligent way.

one woman is an albino. she looks like rutger hauer from blade runner. one man wears a red sweater and plaid shirt underneath. his voice quiets when he speaks of islam. on either side of him are folk from asia. a young dorky looking fellow with spectacles sits across him and next to the albino. when he speaks, his light shines. the dork transforms to a wise seeker. a young wise seeker with a deep resonant voice. i am in heaven, sitting near them.

gideon, we must be in communication with all the theology and divinity students and departments of all the colleges. i would love to be parts of discussions in classes or after the show. we should really tap this group. let’s talk.

we begin our first rehearsal in less than an hour. this is our first rehearsal. so important. this first rehearsal. it is clear to me that we are creating a new thing. a brand new thing. i want to keep the poison of judgment out of my heart and mind. fully trust. fully fight to surrender. fight for this beautiful child “wings of desire”.

“at last, it must be serious”

ola, i promise.

in mass yesterday there was this phrase, “cleanse us, dear Lord, from our earthly life.” damiel’s path is the opposite; cleanse me dear Lord from this angelic existence. it is time to live! to participate in the mess.

rutger hauer’s great line from blade runner;

“i want more life, fucker.”

i love this cambridge. walking the charles river, yesterday. discovering, empirically, the joy of “walking with swinging arms.” this first line is the key to the physical life of the angel and the human. how lucky i am to play this role.

today and yesterday in mass, listening to this boy’s choir. these angelic voices. during the opening hymn, a kind of pre-mass incantation, one little fellow had the hiccups. the beauty of these young voices chanting in latin, accented by this one little angel’s hiccups.

oh dear God, it’s good to be alive. thank you for my life. i could go on and on. i won’t. i will, a little.

if anyone reading this has any thoughts or reflections or recommendations about life and history of cambridge and harvard, please send me your thoughts. i long to know this place.

met fred on the street yesterday morning after mass, after the charles river walk (watching those 14 big strong ducks combing the grass near the river like metal detectors) and fred did not recognize me without a beard. he thought i was homeless and in search of sustenance. i am homeless and in search of sustenance.

i introduce fred as one of the best actors in the netherlands. i speak the truth. so does fred.

i am homeless and in search of sustenance.

i am so excited to begin rehearsal.

“to reach deeper into the sorrows to come.

i am here. i wish you were here. i wish i could tell you how good it is to be here. i pray you already know.

hadewych and i had a great day yesterday. watching squirrels. pretending. we saw THE DEPARTED. an amazing movie about being human. about trust. about being serious.

at last, it must be serious.

i will walk now, the 60 yards to the a.r.t. from my wooden table at the hi-rise. to begin rehearsal. first a photo in front of the a.r.t. reunion with mam. i will give her a hug and mean it.

i might stop in my apartment (between the hi-rise and the a.r.t., what a nice sandwich filling, my apartment) and drop off this heavy computer, full of so much shit.

i can’t stop writing. oh yes i can. heart bursting in love and gratitude,


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