120721
16:07 Naomi Judd
Grace
has touched me in many ways and the humiliating part is that instead
of desiring their company, once or many times, 'in bed or congress',
the women I've known know me better for my interest in their minds
and souls. That is if they remember me at all – not desired; a near
terminal desire to be forgotten.
I
remain in awe of the fluid nature of women versus the rigidity of men
and by this not woman’s lubricity and man’s erections but their
ability to beguile in costume or the absence of grooming.
A
brief aside regarding the best friend of my life unrecognized until
his absence my biological father who said; “imagine her taking a
shit.” Regarding my waxing poetic about one or more or many towards
whom I referred not in lust be merely admiration for their beauty for
which obviously I have a fatal attraction.
That
said, as a reviewer of books, mostly photographic, Jacques Henri
Lartigue remains one of my (ATF) All Time Favorites since he
photographed mostly his family intimately. She was I believe one of
his cousins who ginning joyously enthroned upon porcelain her ball
gown raised above knees clutched decorously celebrating his attention
exactly as dad had proposed/suggested.
I
have yet to understand my vision of people. At times, as with Randy,
my intuition of his death, he asleep in his mothers arms, pieta like,
what I once saw in a dream floating in the void of blackest space.
And not he, Randy & Mother, alone but several or many times less
memorable and/or terrifying in others. I am accustomed to seeing the
child in the crone and visaversa I can hardly be accused of child
molestation or even imagining such a thing yet I sense that a growing
number of people would like me dead. If so I can assure them that I
am legion merely a graduate from being beaten nearly so.
Exactly
how or why I sat having lunch with Naomi Judd escapes me now. The
conversation, most memorable in detail and intimacy, never. Not
simply for her astonishing beauty but her kindness and grace as I
told her of my heritage—not the abuse but our common experience of
poverty in Kentucky where mom & my daughter Jahna are buried;
each of us have part of our hearts there.
Of
Ashley, another beauty I admire for her grit, acting and friendship
with Morgan Freeman who I have for long remembered as a cast member I
photographed at Brown University in a play regarding the
Revolutionary War. Never contacted him to affirm or deny. Astonished
am I the wonderful people I've been exposed to. Neither Ashley or
Morgan only by their acting known.
Am
I name dropping?
No.
I
am attempting to illustrate the depths possible in all of us who seek
the soul of a person and not their celebrity which like beauty
passes with time but the soul remains ever glorious those who give I
admire and those who take I ignore.
Photography
drew me away from the isolation of painting, sculpture and music
socializing me to an extraordinary extent. I am more blest than I can
remember at times.
In
closing just noticed Mr. Freeman gave $1 million to pro-Obama Super
PAC. I was once a constituent of the president in Illinois and sent
him $50.00 which I could then ill afford and now lacking anything
more than pinto beans to donate; I will mention that I have a friend
who knew him in Chicago during his neighborhood organization days –
he can have my life if he needs it otherwise I'll ignore Milt Romney
as the fraud he is. . . . tithe to Mormon's while raping the rest of
us.
I
know the heart of darkness when I see it.
©
2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved
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