785: I had to . . .
What a Piece of Work I Am, Chapter 72
72
I HAD TO WAIT several months more for her next letter, but when it arrived and I read it, I knew that she had come to a spot where she would be staying put at last, and that I would be able to reach her:
Dear Peter,
Here I am, at last, beside the sea, where the sound of the surf muffles the noise of all the rest of it all, allowing me to live more fully in the mind, by myself, me and myself together, the watcher and the watched, the potter and the pot, the cook and her chowder, the artist and the work—and the artist and the work are one, as my mother told me, when I caught her spitting into the soup. She used to put a little bit of herself in every pot of chowder, as the last ingredient, maybe the secret ingredient. She was sneaky about it, but I saw it one day. She would always taste the chowder, of course, as she cooked it, and one day I caught her letting a little spittle run into the spoon before she put it back into the pot. “Ma!” I said. “You spit in the soup!” She looked at me, startled. At the time, I thought she was startled at being caught, but now I think she was startled to discover that I was startled. “Of course!” she said. “You have to put a little of yourself into it.” You put yourself into it. You put it into yourself. The artist makes the work, and the work makes the artist, and as an artist of the self, my work and I are one, and I can no longer tell where I begin and end. I’m here to enjoy myself, to let my work make me happy. Out of the labyrinth, vacationing on Naxos, still a work in progress, now I am at home, happy as a clam (and here we have Tridacna gigas, the giant clam of horror movies, whose happiness must be enormous). I can honestly say now that I have no regrets. I’ve spent nearly all of my life trying to make myself into someone I’m willing to spend my time with, someone I can admire, someone I am proud to be, and now, some nights—like this one—when the sea is calm, and the last light of the day still colors the edge of the world, I stand here at the center of my universe, with the foam lapping at my ankles, and I invite myself to dance, to turn in the gentle light, to make myself available for viewing, to put myself on display, so that I can see myself from every angle and marvel at my workmanship, appreciate the piece of work I’ve made, and what a piece of work I am!
Love, Ariane
That letter came from Rarotonga.
[This concludes the serialization of What a Piece of Work I Am. The serialization of The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy will resume with the first episode of At Home with the Glynns on Wednesday, August 14th, 2024.]
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