Grey Gardens

"Oh look at how she listens
She says nothing of what she thinks.
She just goes stumbling through her memories
Staring out onto Grey Street.
She thinks, 'Hey, how did I come to this?
I dream myself a thousand times around the world
But I can't get out of this place.'
There's an emptiness inside her
And she'd do anything to fill it in
But all the colors mix together--to grey
And it breaks her heart
How she wishes it was different."
- Dave Matthews Band

I've been in a very reflective mood today. I think I'm in mourning for my past life. I think of things I used to do like go to the grocery store every Sunday with my mom and daughter, and I get very sad. I feel an emptiness in my heart. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely happy in my new life, but I still miss things. I think these feelings come with any kind of change. If I'm being honest, I also have to say I miss being able to spend money freely. I love pretty things, and it's a big change not being able to buy them as much as I used to. I know that it's not healthy to crave these things so much. I'm aware that they are a temporary solution to a bigger problem. It hasn't been as big of a problem as I thought it would. I think that's due to my happiness with my decision to follow my heart, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't getting into all the hype being generated over this sale at Anthro tomorrow.

I've been thinking alot lately about "the Edie's" from "Grey Gardens" and about how they must have had some of the same feelings about their past. To have lived such a lavish lifestyle and then be reduced to living conditions not fit for animals. Talk about change. I really loved this summary of the documentary:

"Its haunting subtext is this: the truth is best presented through metaphor. The Beales are themselves, born into a particular class at a particular time. But they are also the selves they’ve created: a singer, a dancer, whose florid self-presentation cannot be eclipsed by hard times, bad times—so-called real life. Certainly the Maysles are interested in recording the Beales’ very real life—the ruined house crawling with cats and fleas, the paper bird in the rusty gilded cage, the mother and daughter quarrelling—but those are the film’s most superficial elements. What draws the viewer in are the stories around what we cannot see: Miss Beale lamenting the loss of a scarf. The suitors turned away. Mrs. Beale’s infatuation with a man whose minor musical talent is better remembered than heard. Money spent. The dream of New York on summer nights filled with jackhammers and the moon. Regrets and recriminations: the language of lovers, the fabric of family life. The Maysles’ interest in the ephemeral, the passing of time in a sea of leaves, tells us that masks are all we have; people would not know who they are or what to say without them. Time is cruel, but we can overcome it a bit by insisting on self-expression (at any cost, since it generally does cost something: a conventional life and the conventional wisdom that goes with it)."

Given this, it was such a coincidence that my friend and I stumbled upon this house during a drive in the country. It was isolated and abandoned, but beautiful. Trying to get these photos was a little like a metaphor for my life right now. There were spiders crawling on me, a snake winded across my path, and the weather kept alternating between bright sun and rain. However, no matter what obstacles were in my way, I had my moment to reflect on them (freak out), but I quickly regained my composure and carried on.

Dave Matthews Band - Grey Street

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