Interstices, coincidental conjunctions and collisions . . .
Haven’t done laundry in six months. I was verging on day-of-the year underwear and mining mountains of dirty clothes; comparative reekyness considerations aside. After all what is stink water (men’s cologne) for? . . . and then began the cycle of turning them inside out, front to back and upside down.
So there I stood, pre-dawn looming and using a sticky roller to get Annie’s fur off the sheets; well, actually everything. I have a Queen Sized bed purchased in expectation of a liaison that I begged off at the dinner & wine stage. My father’s last erection was @ age 72 so I guess I’m on my last lap and running hard, not towards but away. I’m calling The Salvation Army or Good Will tomorrow to ask that they cart it away and I’ll return to my monks bed.
My last potential bed mate just informed me that she’d taken a boarder, wants to have a confab at lunch. Said her kids conferred and concurred. Oh well, she was the only candidate I’d give up my wolfish way for 24/7/365. So that’s what? A fourteen hour spread. I am not into New Years Resolutions, at least I never considered it one but being iconoclastic I ask even of God; is this your will or an accident?
Guess I’d rather have women as friends. Then they’d be like grand kids you can send them home. Interestingly women I talk to seem to feel the same way.
“Men wonder when and where, woman wonder why?” --Billy Joel
. . . at least I think so but cannot confirm attribution.
I can’t keep it all straight what I write for me or for publication. Of late I’m attempting to write myself out and not into a corner. I have a staggering memory and have largely healed the agony/pain of it. . . .But as isolated as I am I remain conscious of being mentored by others of both genders and fabulously varying ages; so I'm here for you.
So much of what I do, or did, was/is like dropping your heart into a well and not hearing a splash. Such talent as I may have had was never developed but I make a great audience. In that regard I’ve had brief but intense encounters with people whose work I admire. The best, possibly the first, was sitting beside Joseph Albers and showing him some of my cut paper collages--we said “Music!” simultaneously--pink & orange it was. God how I adore genius but perhaps wisdom more since I weep at Buddha’s quotes. Jesus too but he is so buried in should’s & ought's that it is difficult to find the person beneath all the hyperbole.
Regarding the product of my imaginings and captures: I’ve abandoned, or destroyed, most of it. Living as I do in an “Elderly” community at the time of my death the maintenance crew will simply dump what’s left. Don’t look back. Don’t look forward. Look at now and within yourself; there’s really nothing to fear.
"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." --Maya Angelou
PS No. I did not take the photograph but I admire it and wish I'd at least been there
. . . like I wish I'd taken Gene Smith's Tomeko at her Bath.
No comments:
Post a Comment