Thursday, January 20, 2011
The three-day search I've been engaged in is finished, for the most part. The picture which began the quest by so captivating my interest is yet to come, as are the details of the lives and the findings and the losses. It's been a touching endeavour, sad and yet uplifting, by the enduring fond memory of a friend.
Above, one of the players in this small vignette---in both senses. She is Mme. Marie Methua Schiller, whose fame and respect as an actress of the nineteenth century have endured for many years. Her travels, her body of work, her family, their lives---all have been gleaned in teaspoons, from small books and yellowed clippings and great long microfilm which whizzed past on the scroll like the ride of a runaway elevator, causing me to shake my head to clear my vision and re-arrange my thoughts.
The looking and finding has engaged me during this snowy, dark-day time, and, like all nights, of the soul and otherwise, the brightness comes. It will take several tellings, I think, and I would not thrust it upon you unawares, so I hope that my little chapters of the next few days will not be an imposition. I don't want it to be sad or maudlin or dreary, though there WAS a great sorrow.
But there's also a great bright sweetness, of spirit and of gesture, and I know I am the better for the knowing of the story.
Posted by racheld at Thursday, January 20, 2011