https://photos.app.goo.gl/4dmWbTRCLPtCNURA9
My right ear is stuffed with the ocean.
My flight, which I share with my wife, was canceled and we have to stay here, at the Boston Logan Airport Hotel, until tomorrow morning. A full day overlooking tarmac.
I’m excited about it. I’ve always wanted to stay at an airport hotel but never did. The rush of so much travel hardware nearby. The luxury of no transit and only walking, and being under the control of your own locomotion to get on to a silver tube.
And here, near, is the 9/11 Memorial at Boston Logan Airport
Situated between a access highway and a hotel parking garage, they enforced dignity with a serpentine walkway. Forcing you to slow down.
Colored translucent panels mark time and list people. My God we are obsessed with lists. Boston shale lines the walkway, as if commerce cares where the landing strip is, we’re so geographically vain. Granfallooon lovers, all of us.
There was intensity here for me. Work intensity– the kind of stuff that rings in your ears when it’s happening– ruins sleep and feels like a wall.
It was a pivotal Airport Hotel Tuesday in a pivotal week. This is how things proceed, how we grow and keep going.
I kept getting air and walking to the airport terminals and up two floors of a concrete parking lot down two floors.
I know what to do. Forgive.
