Bryant Park

I am taking a graphic arts class and I’ve had to build a website this week. I have learned a lot about the language of html and css and all the stuff that make websites work. Html is interesting as far as language goes. I realize that I have actually witnessed some of its evolution. I remember back to my high school days when the computer would boot on after an eternity and a green cursor would be flashing and then if you knew the magic code, maybe something else would happen. I remember teaching English in the early 2000’s and kids were using punctuation to make smiley faces and winky faces and all kinds of picture messages. Now emojis take the place of those quirky punctuation pictures, entire lives are lived on line, and computers are a different machine than they were thirty years ago.

For my assignment, I had to choose a season, input a picture, write about the picture, and link another website that went with the theme of the season. At first, I thought about fall, because it’s been such a glorious fall this year. I never remember the colors just lasting, and lasting. But when I was scrolling through my photos, I came across the Bryant Park photo.

When the kids and I were in Manhattan the Christmas after my parents died, we spent an evening at a world market in Bryant Park. There was a carousel and both the kids wanted to ride it, even though they were both beyond the age of being excited about that kind of thing. While they were riding it, I looked up and saw the bare winter trees, immense, reaching for the sky. The skyscrapers of the city were just beyond, glinting with yellow lights. The sky was a beautiful, mauve color and it felt a little mystical. I remember the three of us sitting on a bench together afterwards, just taking everything in around us, completely at peace with the experience. And that’s why I love the photo so much. A rare moment when we were all in sync.

I am enjoying the graphics art class, but it hasn’t been easy to squeeze into my life. I can see the appeal of creating websites from scratch. It’s fun to put in the language to make the colors and text come together, but I don’t know if I’ll ever grow to love coding. It’s a beautiful fall day, and I am hunched like a grumbly, witch over my keyboard trying different potions to make my heading text get centered. I just need the text to be centered, I don’t need to know how it happens, or why it happens. I kind of wonder what in the hell is possessing me to learn all this anyway, but it seems like the right thing to be doing now.

The holidays are fast approaching. Truth is the holidays make me feel untethered and orphaned. I’d love for my kids to be home with me for cozy Hallmark moments. But that’s not how life works. The hardest part of being a parent is accepting that kids grow up into their own lives. I am not sure what my daughter has planned. My son lives in a limbo world, and I never really know what version to expect. Sometimes I feel like I am in a cage of unstable circus animals. Or maybe just the drugged lion. The thing is though, I do have a key, even if the image of him lost in a haze is always with me. I have to remind myself that I am not the one trapped.

Anyway, I had a dream that I was driving through the mountains with my dad. I looked behind us and the sky was on fire. I told Dad that everything was burning and he said, “Well, we aren’t going in that direction.” It’s funny how I always feel my mom around me, but dad mostly comes in my dreams. I wake up with strength to do the day. And for now the fire is behind me.

So I am taking this class to learn for myself. I try to see the good all around me. I am grateful for the texts from my daughter and for the moments my son notices that I am in his corner for the right reasons. I might not know or understand everything on this journey, but I feel like I am on the right road for now.