I'm in London's Stansted Airport. I had a nice flight over last night. The woman who sat beside me on the flight is an antique dealer in Charlotte, though she's originally from Texas. I didn't get her name. She, sometimes alone and sometimes with her husband, travels often to England and France to buy antiques, mostly 18th and 19th century furniture and accessories.
After talking to the sweet antique dealer, I read Annie Dillard. I love her observations and descriptions! Every time I read her work, I'm inspired to write my own stories and observations. Unfortunately, I'm not half the genius she is. Every time I try to write, I am thoroughly disappointed with the result.
Right now I'm reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. It's about the mystery and beauty of the world; I love the second chapter-about "seeing". Dillard is writing about a book she read that was written by doctors who perform surgeries to restore the sight of people who have been blind since birth. The book documents the surprising reactions of the now-seeing patients who are confused by the things they see. They have no concept of space or depth, and they are overwhelmed by light and color…it's all so interesting!
I'm in the airport all day; my flight leaves at 6:30AM tomorrow morning. There is something I like about this airport. I love being here more than in any other airport in the world… I can see the cars, trains, planes and people coming and going-I'm watching from a huge window in the corner of the airport.
My favorite thing I've seen today: a beautiful little Swedish boy dressed as Spider Man. He's got the pants, the shirt, and the costume is completed by the mask he keeps pulling on and off his adorable little blond head. He's wearing army-green G.I. Joe shoes, and I've watched him alternately running in huge circles at the check-in area and sneaking around on the floor on his hands and knees. What a great mom he must have! She lets him be Spider Man whenever he wants. It is so interesting for me to watch children with their mothers. Young Spider Man just ran across the airport and jumped into his mother's arms. She swung him around and picked him up, and our little Spider Man wrapped his short arms around her neck and rested his chubby cheek on her shoulder… Now he's put his mask on again and is running around, poking strangers, and running away. What a beautiful child! He makes everyone smile and laugh, and everyone at the airport respects and admires him for being Spider Man!
…it's 2:00AM; I can't sleep. It's pretty quiet now. The security warnings and loud-speaker announcements are finally over, and the idiot who has been whistling Christmas carols and annoying children's songs extremely loudly for the last couple hours has finally shut up, too. I think I'm going to read some more Annie Dillard. While I was sleeping, I dreamed that I was Annie Dillard. All of her genius observations, exciting discoveries, profound thoughts, and superbly-written books were mine! I felt so intelligent and important. Then I woke up… and realized I'm still just me, a tired traveler wrapped awkwardly around my bag and the uncomfortable metal arm-rests of airport chairs. What was I thinking? I need coffee!
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