58 – american angel notes from the left edge of america (the year after the fall)

tuesday november 13, 2007 2:08PM santa monica, california

an open letter to kamela in thanksgiving;

dear kamela,

a year ago on this day i wrote my first cambridge entry to this “american angel” journal.

it was short and sweet. unlike all my other long winded entries. it’s worth copying here;

monday november 13, 2006 12:18AM cambridge, massachusetts

in my apartment 203.

tired and ready to sleep.

***

here i am.

with love,

bernie

***

and so began my great time as damiel in cambridge.

we were really beginning work on a new play, even though we had played it in amsterdam. the significant change for me, of course, was in my playing damiel.

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final angel notes from the old new world (cambridge) – 37

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monday december 18, 2006 12:10AM

just left the gang at tommy doyle’s. much life left in the evening but. . . the body and mind and heart slow to the end. craving solitude. the pain in the right hamstring from my high kick. so appropriate to injure this on the last day. tempted fate on so many moves during this show. this little injury is good to slow me down. it takes a certain energy to heal. slowness. quiet.

i leave on the 11:40 train in the morning.

this final entry. should have some import. some summing up. perhaps in the morning. right now, it’s over and i don’t feel a thing. except this general sadness to do with death. sleep come free me. this beautiful journey is now over.

american angel notes from the old new world (cambridge) – 36

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sunday december 17, 2006 6:45AM

inside still closed eyes, i saw renate’s face. in beautiful profile. straight on.

“this could be a beginning of a story.”

and now awake. for now awake.

it’s the third week of advent. a third candle added. to increase the light as the light decreases. before it begins again to increase. and that’s the promise. history proves the promise. a long history of the light not letting us down. each year, like clockwork. waits sings;

“you can never hold back spring.”

closing time.

american angel notes from the old new world (cambridge) – 35

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tuesday december 5, 2006 noon

today is my sister dawn’s birthday. happy birthday dawn. i realize for the first time my parents gave their first daughter the name of dawn. born during the first week of the glorious season of advent. the celebration of the waiting on the coming of the light.

dawn.

happy birthday dawn. i’m glad you are my sister.

american angel notes from the old new world (cambridge) – 34

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saturday december 2, 2006 9:30AM

this play is all about the value of the story. the necessity of the story.

it is good i am telling this one in these journals. thank you didi. thank you gideon.

as cornel west and tavis smiley spoke in the ames courtroom of the austin hall of the harvard law school yesterday, they re-enforced this. as they spoke of martin luther king jr., and marcus garvey and john coltrane and rosa parks (yesterday the anniversary of her bus ride). as they quoted these men and women. they’re just taking up the story. keeping the story alive.

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friday december 1, 2006 11:24AM

“i’ll be true to my love,
if my love’ll be true to me.”

this 3rd c.d., titled “bastards” of tom waits new c.d. has me smiling and laughing and loving life.

my dear friend valarie gave me a dozen white roses on opening night. i never get flowers on opening nights. i never get flowers.

“you don’t send me flowers,
you don’t write me love songs. . .”

valarie the next day took me to veggie planet. good food. valarie had written front and back of an index card about the play. she got it. she took the note twice;

“this play makes me happy to be alive.”

can’t ask for art to do anything more. valarie’s a graduate divinity student. i went with her to one of her classes. i loved it. i absolutely loved it. the class is Jesus and the Gospels. something being taught and explored that truly matters.

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tuesday, november 28, 2006 1:14AM

a beautiful day off. now bob dylan winds me down to sleep. the death of this day.

“each day dies with sleep”.

i did jose’s play of this title. good title.

greta and betty were at the wings of desire screening. simply amazing women. greta, 85, and more alive than so many i know. still works at the ymca. she’s also teaching acting. afterwards at dinner with andy and hadewych and loesje and chris and gideon and ola and her two amazing friends, naomi an damon. they drove me home. first gave me a little tour of their street. i saw where robert frost lived. unbelievable. i saw a crack of light from a window through which frank bidart lives. the book of the body. this is in damon and naomi’s building. bidart’s up there each night watching war movies. also creeley lived on this street. passed longfellow’s house. too much for one man.

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friday november 24, 2006 10:50AM

nothing to say, as yet, but this;

got an email yesterday at 3:33PM from “Less” with the title “tryptophantastic!”. whenever i try to open it the rainbow wheel of death appears and twirls and everything freezes and i have to force quit to get out of mail.

i can’t open this email sent at 3:33PM on 11/23/06. the blue ball of potential remains next to the name of the sender. the sender’s name: “Less”

so much power in the number 3. triangulation. and yet 4 is the number of wholeness.

fake angel notes from the old new world (cambridge) – 30

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thursday november 23, 2006 8:29AM. thanksgiving.

beginning this before prayer. before saying thank you.

43 years ago in dallas jack kennedy went for his throat. with both hands. as if he were going to choke himself. jack went for his throat to try to keep the bullet from passing through. jackie climbed out the back seat of the motorcade, not to take the hand of the secret service guy but, to try and retrieve the top of her husband’s skull. it seems, in their marriage, they had an understanding. her pretty pink dress reddened. pink pill box hat. his mother’s name was rose.

american angel notes from the old new world (cambridge) – 29

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saturday, november 18, 2006 10:23AM

my sister ramona’s birthday. happy birthday ramona.

stepped out of the brattle arms at about 6:30AM. started to turn right but then decided to turn left and walk this new direction, past the theatre down brattle. for me, the road not taken (before this morning). such a great walk. still a few leaves, over ripe, clinging to the trees. waiting to fall. timing the fall in accordance with proper dramatic structure. giving me something to look forward to. many trees already bare. naked and waiting for the spring.

the cast of a woody allen film sits at the long table across from me. they talk of bed and breakfasts and vegan restaurants. they are witty and alive. they are interested in life. i am glad they are here.