almost home and then again aren't I always

my little grandson is going to be a comedian when he grows up...shades of billie crystal in the crowds at his burpday...looking on, funny how comedians make you see the humor of things...but never crystalize into absolute seriousness...althoughtheyalwaysarethat...
I should think, with my back aching the weight it doze..dog snoring up a pile of logs by my feet...curtains drawn though morning light is attempting to interface with the lamp on the cute little dropleaf table next to me...rattling snore of the animal who is pretty cute pugnacious EUGENE...named for Ken Kesey's rattlegrounds...we wubbed him..
supposed to be writing this in a certain manner - my challenge..was about the kiddo being a comedian someday...oh he will..the energy is there and he will need it with his father and mother being the conscientious young adults they are...always giving in at the very last moment, letting poor baby scream his lungs out at bedtime "I DON"T WANT TO DO THIS I"M NOT TIRED DAMN YOU ALL!!!' until he gives up...gibbs up...and floats off into the astral plane for about two hours at which point parents have circumscribed their guilt at letting him tear his lungs up shouting at them and have foisted themselves into their bed doing whatever young parents do in the meantime and have entered phase ONEREM...there he goes again YOWL>>>and they don't bother with the schematics of waht they were about before when they first put him down...there's the key probably 'put him down''/./..you're going to bed young man...you've had it/interpret/i've had it with you and your helplessness I need a leetle break from all the chores of assisting you to your physical independence of me and anyone else who might get to change your pants or pick you up...
so he waits with trembling score in hand..the mad jockey and when REM is achieved in both parental guys...YOWL..and waht do they do...
they pad into his room..shuffle shuffle..yawn...groan..cummhere buddy
pick the little dude up out of his crib..KRIB..hoist him on their shoulder and shuffle off to buffalo (there bed)..where he sleeps the rest of the night secure in the knowledge he RULES THE F'n universe...
and how to interject into this sequence the ability to provide comedic relief to the rest of the world..in due time?
easily...granddmere was onboard for several nights of his repetitive, controlling routine wherein folks are down with him schlepping in and hoisting him on their shoulders tossing him inbetween them for a goodnights' sleep all around...grandmere goes, eh...this is how it is eh buddy?  well, we'll go see the boogerfactory supervisor about this one...since you is such a goodlittle kid...(dog raises his head and goes yeah, she's on it, she's on it, she's on it...though he's so tired of the mess)...human kind..
so..fra materI defines the process right here a=b=c or depreviation at bedtime of comforting stories, rocking, singing...the best jokes...ok that would be it...the best jokes

vinnie and luigi live in the brooklyn heights neighborhood where aunts sis and betty once dwelt...vinnie is in technical vocation school 'i'm technically getting a vocation...but I ain't gonna be no priest'..he tells the gurls...
luigi is apprenticed to his Uncle Batosi..who is the worlds formost pizza dough man in the immediate vicinity and luigi has a thing for twirling pizza dough...
luigi and vinnie both went to st thomas aquinas (probably made up this part but sufficient we have the same religious backgrounds..)and have been the best of friends since kindigarden..
luigi 'twirled a twoyarder today'
vinnie 'no way..what on it?
luigi 'usual, pepperoni s'all'
vinnie 'save a piece?"
luigi 'you kiddin' batosi..eh..giveyaafingenail furst'..
vinnie'gross man..nuttin for da boys?
luici 'oh yeah, he said stuff this in your fat little face you greedy monster
luigi pulls out a parchment paper containing a lucious morsel of batosi's more elegant cheese/tomato sauce concoctions and stuffs it in vinnie's open mouth
vinne 'what is that, it's great...oh man...chewing..it's totally wonderful..I should b e a food credit..this food is E.X.C.E.L.L.E.N.T..spelling it out
luigi..I threw in some fresh basil..a little snip of Patsi's rosemary..a diced trimani salami..olives from you know where..grated romano out of batosi's goat
vinnie..no way the goat again
luigi yep..
vinnie..well then..it's truly great..it is it is I love it..tell him put it on the menu NOW
luigi..he's thinking of calling it 'Luigi's One and Only'..
vinnie..ah, you're still on about Carmella Pennascotti?
luigi...my eyes adore her..but I wouldn't lay on hand on her with  Big Marky running around
vinnie...hurts, daolderbrudder syndrome
luigi...sighs loudly and kicks a pop cap into the street
vinnie..hang in there man, I think she likes you
luigi..I think so too, but the big brother thing..it's not good
vinnie...maybe I talk to him, see what he thinks of you..you could take her to the movies..he could jump off the bridge, hehe, elbows luigi luigi smiles a bit
luigi..I made a stupid pizza with her face, strings of mozzarella for hair..pepperoni lips...black olive eyebrows...tomato slice cheeks..Uncle Batsoi looks at it..he goes..'what we doing SEsame Street lives now?'...I got all sad then and baked it on 425 for ten minutes and sent it to her..took it out of my pay..twelve dollars..signed the box 'courtesy of the Brooklyn Transit authority' and gomo delivered for me..it was really hot when he got there he said..how DUMB am I?'
vinnie...pretty dumb, for twelve dollars and no date, still, a girl's gotta eat...she datin' anyone else you think? 
luigi..nah..according to Gomo no other clowns in the town...
vinnie..what she do? go to school? 
luigi..she's at some art school downtown doing design somebody told me...classes every day..walks out the door with a big drawing envelope with a zipper..keeps her stuff in there..
vinnie..you watch her do that?
luigi?  huh? me? ...well, I borrowed Tatiana's Civic and I was parked up the block one day, just because
vinnie elbows him again...just because you're a nard..punches him in the arm
luigi punches him back...watch it boy...no more pizza for the slugger...hits vinnie in the arm
vinnie..well, I gotta get back to Mama's...we're going to hang the bigscreen...can't wait to watch the game on that beauty..
luigi..see ya man..later...hang out on the corner/
vinnie...just like our dads bro...just like our dads

scene fades...and it's much better than sadder day Knight LIBe
 

versional unit analysis...dixie solo cups

can't see how solo cups interfaces with baby on the floor but it does...baby is good..talking, 'hey dad' in gaga terms..such a great season of light to be around this one..any child of this age..one on sunday..wooken dogs  barking it is their child..well maybe the one here they protect by their presence..to believe in myth and lyric at the same time..granddaughter my ayah..lyric..attains it..let's project her with that power..I'd not felt it but it is there...she goes lightly from my room as though there were no fairies in the world at all but they'd become children as she is, floating within the light of their own spirits, this one a screamer does she not get her way..and tapped to be the singer in the band that is yet to come, because she will control that fierceness with the power of belief because her father will teacher as I have taught him..we did not make the rules, but we know what they are..
a set of phoenics within the relevance of our accepted code..today the music of the holidays begins for next week is tanksgibbin..in turkey talk there will probably be a surfeit of them although I'm possibly inclined to be the one left in the station waiting for the next plane or bus...or whatever gets me home again I'd like to travel freely but my autoexecutor state is taken up by hellos from families of which I am a part and where my heartstring is plucked..bling..hello...some of the mountains I viewed from the plane's window were actually true gold because this is earth and where the story jesus as the son of god originated and when we go to the other parts of our solar system that will be what we know first when we get there..he came to us to let us know he'll be in charge of the entire operation from a far corner where not a feather on any bird will be disturbed..and still my hair is falling out..like woven threads of human gold it sparkles like silver on the brush..and I wonder did I weave it to do this or am I getting old?  nah...a corrupt visual basic program no doubt because today is the day we we birth the solar captain..who will go solo ever after as leia is no more..
and the song cycle worked because on the sea the fish is caught in the hands of the master fisherman...what did he say, be fishers of men?  yep..he said that...anyway, he always speaks through me like that because I am a theologian of the new age..stood in front of the white house, all that...was at the Moratorium...knew about the origins of Adolph Hitler and the neighbor's dog..all in one..elaborate?  how about embroider on the truth and learn the proper stitches to complete the tablecloth of grapevines that must account for the exploding blackberry soda/beer that had too much Yeast..
well, it might be poetry or it might be the cracking longing that is being assauged by my being here with the baby son of my daughter and her husband...that might be it and living in the gallery space that is my studio..as if it were a museum..paintings everywhere...and do I write my artist husband who was at the Corcoran as though the association of an art school was really something to aspire to...well It hought so..and so would a trip to Europe be but how could you do that had you never had a comission although I had a teeny one from the George Meany center for seventy five dollars and now I've got a mean George that snipes me as though he were really a sandpiper and I was on his beach, scaring him up sandfleas and his voiceover was tripped up by the presence of...sigh...there's were the song cycle of the Hopi comes into it..the sand in the wind..fly away...leave that one grain for the bear and the deer and the coyote and the wolf..and let my little sons wear the headdress wherever they are..and dance it out with great joy that we may never feel again this longing for such closeness with a spirit that abides within us and keeps us free in our minds and hearts always..and so we may never know why it is that things happen as they do, for they are retribution for a dark path...

chilling down

we're having a brief spot of sun this morning.  it's cooler, much...I sit here with my motorcycle cap on...a skirt over leggings..socks, flats, a fleece top in orange, a skirt in pale blue plaid.  I've been taking another class in becoming an EMT...I was there last night and then went down to see Cindy at JoAnn's but she wasn't there.  The television was on, the dogs were all at the front door but it was locked.  I have another computer now, my brother's laptop.  He got himself a notebook and is learning the ropes of visual keyboarding..An interesting process.  I need to check Allegiant airlines about flights to phoenix tosee little Harrison on his birthday.  I need some breakfast.  Ineed to clean up myh ouse.  I need some fresh air...that's what we'll do, me and the dogs...take a walk to the beach while the air is clear and it's not raining...then we'll start our day...Obama has been reelected...

I am the Mermaid on the Reef

well...this is the third post and I still haven't looked at little Harrison's latest photos...my first grandson..my first granddaughter being the doll of dolls...this guy is the dude of dudes...yahoo
going on about my heartthrob...who knows I exist but does I cherish the footprint he leaves in the sand...perhaps...perhaps I was waiting to express to myself that he and the grocery clerk are of a simile..something I so want for myself...and you know...what I'm about...clarifying why it is it isn't...phone rings...I answer, it's Lisa another burger at the Inn...for Diana, but I think I could...I would like to...that, somewhere somehow...do you have to have definition like that in your life...I think that I should friend Rene because it's uncivil not to...and so...just randomly jotting down things but the mainthing was that I cried the other day that I wasn't actively flirting with this fellow and I should have but I didn't and I feel bad that I did not...just played it out in my head and wished and hoped and did the dusty springfield routine without the field of daisies, I even had that once, the field of daisies...on the mountainside in the Blue Ridge...I know the greeting card moment and I look at him and there it is but with him it was the ride on the big wave when you're reeling in the big fish and the boat is rocking under your feet...up and down...I don't get seasick...I like to fish...

peeyew what a kee rappy day today...

there was something I was absolutely convinced would be a topic to blog about  but now I'm sitting here I have no idea what that was, or what I could say...maybe it was about the self-indulgent ramblings of a former heroin addict...I say self-indulgent because to listen to her ramble on tape about her voyage to self-realization I realize that it's all about her...she's fierce about her mother love but when it comes down to it..she is not one who cares about anyone else in her life? not really her thing...how she feels about her siblings...eh...doesn't care that much
you get so you know, observe, listen...when folks are endearing and endeared to their family... and that is about that...who's a what?  hmm...as it goes...can't really get into that now...that self-focused routine... I kind of got lost, listening to the hum and the rhythm of the day unfolding - it's after 1 almost two in the afternoon, the kind of time when if you've fallen in love you might just be waking up, or if at work, only two hours to go until quitting time (about) or like me, feet are damp, fire is cresting to a warm glow at home, here's just getting going, massages going on, testing the new laptop...ah the familiar routine, thinking about food what a wonderful thing it is, the best of the steamed vegs last night, with Hollandaise, that really makes'em good...I think...there goes Louise's old car, didn't see who was driving it, hehe..I am wearing these godawful men's glasses...but I can see out of them well enough to recognize faces in the cars passing by (like why would I want to know that?) and so there's a huddle of women in the massage room because the heat is on in there...oh yes...the  little bagel and cream cheese wasn't enough for me...I need more...sustenance

like the pants I painted that said 'thou restored' which I wore in New York and there was a dance troupe in central park and I walked right by them in the 'pants'...and up the stairs of the metropolitan museum and so on into the night here comse a rather grim faced woman bo02682N from brematon
but they drive away because 'we are closed', oh no he's trying to park it...hmmm
I'll just have to ignore him and let it go...
w
I stop with the italics...perhaps this individual topic thing is going to get me in the end and I'll display myself as insensitive as the character on the trail...my mother, well...it's my children, there's the thing...bundles of them and animals too...right now, the cat on my lap is keeping my weggswarm...I call them my 'weggs' when I talk to the woggins and the kitty...dog is of course 'woggins'...and when I'm walking the wogs I am walking on my weggs...because that's how it is...a bit richard adamsy...that but there it is..sang froid
never really sure about sang froid, done with frankness, candor, innocence one thinks it means
one hopes that is so for my German is appalling...SUCH As IT IS and learning this keyboard...my friend the caudel king...you think of the caudel as the block...but its the keyboard language for the computer..WE HAD a DRILL today...man that cap stays stuck on large..hehe
tsunami it was a drill for that, if we get it, well it'll be interesting but then, so is this crappy rain we're currently having, yeschh...don't like it but it is here and there's maui across the sea warm breezes and so on...but residency there, would it not be boringh, I'm thinking this chick with the penchant for describing other people's m;isery, eh...she did talk about her own blisters with some accord...ya and duh...then there was this big black bear who came along and went boo and she blew a whistle on him...right on...ah...I'm getting to my topic..
slowly, surely...she rides down the little hill on her bicycle and all I can think is she stole the keys to my house...she imitates me, she stands in for me when the paychecks are distributed, I've lost my property, my vehicle...and she texted me this morning 'we cancelled the card'...duh...ya think...
she buys four hundred dollar sneakers...she uses meth...she keeps cruising by the place where it is souled..and helps herself and then comes home to Mother...more able to deal with the constant criticism...she used to steal the car keys and the wallets of whoseever pocket had been emptied...I studied that...I wondered did the parents know...this is screwy dudes?  well they did of course and I wanted to help because I knew them for so long...she lived in my house...now I see it as an evil omen if she is around..it's like someone put pants on my dog for crying out loud...I can't handle it...the dog was shaking, shivering...I guess they had tried to do that...but there's no escape...it can't be done...you have to live in the shelter of the crimean fear...the dark sea, the gentle tea glass...the languages...the space race...the f yu up you are...and eventually the tanning hide will give up the last of itself...the phone rings..
I don't have to try to be positive, I am naturally that, living int he woods as I do...it's not about me, the topic, rather the sense of who's the animal..eh
 

Spacey in The Shrink

I borrowed a video from the library called The Shrink.  It featured Kevin Spacey as a Los Angeles psychiatrist with clients involved in show business.  He was forever wandering back lost to the suicide of his wife, a grieving process he finally enlightened himself about after much personal suffering.  The moral of the story, so to speak, was that you have to pick yourself up and go on when you lose someone.  He found himself over and over again lying on the floor, the couch, the lounge chair by the pool, but he didn't realize when he found himself in those places that he was actually finding himself as he had become since his wife had died.  He wasn't able to see through his loss to the otherside of his life, where he would begin to live without her.
It begs the question of what was their marriage like, the shrink and his wife.
The movie doesn't elaborate on the married life of the psychiatrist, it only goes into the depth of his despair.  He doesn't connect to loving his wife as much as he does the losing of her through death.  He cannot cope with the death and so he becomes like her, returning to dust, through the excessive use of mind altering substances which his family feel and attempt an intervention because of, cloud his judgment.  He is, however, a realistic man and finds that once he understands what his grief is doing to him, he is able to pick up the pieces and continue his life, initiating contact with a potential girl friend, wearing pajamas to bed instead of falling into it still clothed for the previous day. 
The Shrink is an interesting movie because it details what exactly our process is in terms of coping with grief.  We have tears, we have an overwhelming feeling of sorrow, but what we cannot face is what we feel about what has happened to us.  We try our best to blot it out but it is not until we face the reality of the circumstances: our true love has gone, our child, our parent..whatever the issue, then we are able to adjust to it, make it a part of our life.  Until we are able to grasp the terms of the despair we feel...we cannot make any adjustment to it.  Who knows how long it takes for an individual to come to this realization.  It is as though we wrap ourselves in a great bundle of wool, something that insulates us, coccoons us, holds us in its cloudy web, until we begin to see the faint light of our reason coming to terms with the blow it has been dealt. 
Some of us come upon this despair daily.  These are the mentally depressed among us.  For them the cloudy wool of our existence never truly leaves, but clots all reason with the condition of despair, that we may cling to that and not to the daily routine of our lives.  We find we have no reason to have that daily routine.  It matters little if the dust on the furniture deepens...we're not obliged to reason with that...it's there...so what...  So it was with Spacey's psychiatrist character.  He moved onward, you didn't see him frying any bacon...popping up some toast...he merely went forward with a sandwich shoved in his face...He was stopping up the grief with a little analgesic pastrami but it wasn't sizzling in the pan and giving up a wonderful aroma..it was merely there. 
It takes a while to come to terms with grief.  I prefer to think of grieve as the kidneys metabolizing and processing the eternal waste of the human soul..they've got a job to do, fluids, diuretic inducing foods, it helps somewhat but the main thing to do is to think positive about the daily routine...keep motivated to sweep, launder, dust, tidy, organize...and then contemplate what little thing has been accomplished, see it as the reality of your life.  Little by little you can build on these daily accomplishments and see that they add up to a reality that coexists with grief, takes from it only the necessary, adjusts to the positive outcome.  It takes a while, it becomes a matter of thought then, and the mind, the human mind, accepts that there is still a soul within the body, that the soul does not truly wish to join the great unknown just yet, it has not accepted the defeat of the love lost...or whatever has happened.  It will continue.
the process of acceptance is truly a time consuming ritual.  IT involves being good to yourself among other things...putting the fudge sauce on the ice cream...wearing the warm socks...smiling at yourself in the mirror..laughing...

lazy friday afternoon

the cars are passing to and fro, the roadwork has stopped but the yellow lines are not on there yet..this week has been fraught with stalled traffic while the road crew laid rock and then tar, and we waited.  at the minimart I got stuck through two passes of the traffic back into the town because the stop sign holder ignored us all waiting there patiently and the other cars were allowed to pass us by.  that was the way that I was going berry picking but since it took a half hour to just get to the minimart and look for my berry picking partner, I gave it up and moved lumber under the deck instead.  I did get a fence built as well so it wasn't a total loss.  the weather has been so glorious it's been a challenge to do anything but just be out in it and feel the warmth.  i'm still hanging clothes on the line but I keep feeling like this may be the last time I do that.  I've been to the ocean at neah bay, eaten pizza with my friend and did some shopping at Washburns where I got the yogurt special, some meats, some chips...the usual...oh yeah, a package of mushrooms, yum...
I finished a book, the Friday Night Knitting Club which was good until it got too sad and I finished it but I wasn't happy that the story turned out the way it did.  Watched a movie Guess Who with Ashton Kutcher and the black guy I call Benny Truax but don't think that's the guy's name.  It was billed as a comedy but to me it wasn't funny at all...when you tell a joke it's supposed to be funny but kutcher got in big trouble with his fiancee's family because the jokes were about black people and they just got really uptight with him.   I don't know that he's such a funny guy anyway...Space Aliens took my Car was probably his funniest movie, Kutcher...now there was a bit of silly comedy worth laughing about..
Also watched some of Platoon, again...revisiting the Viet Nam saga..
have to go outside now and lie in the sun or start moving around instead of sitting here in front of the computer, hmmm...

The Island

just read that book by Elin Hildebrand and it was a good one for a bus trip to Bellingham.  I started it out remembering living on the East Coast but I hadn't been to New Caanan although I'd been through Jersey a time or two and knew people from Hoboken when I was at St. Martin's.  These guys in the story take their summer home in Cape cod at Nantucket, next island out apparently for a month in summer.  There's all kinds of marital stuff in the story, people loving each other since they were seventeen, one gal, one daughter, falling for a budding rock star, the other daughter, shaving of heads, rock star lover's daughter, mother the very good cook and sister/auntie with the name India...which we just saw Gone with the Wind after hmm, can't say when I last saw THAT, but there's an India Wilkes in Gone wit hthe Wind and would youname a child after a name in a movie?  I don't about India, naming a kid that, but she was and she was with the Philadelphia art stuff...I am not going into detail here about that and don't need clarification other than to say our gallery was named Madams Organ...and now there's a bar named Madams Organ and I had an art exhibit at Madams Organ and it was called 'Radical Surfaces Changing' and it was reviewed in the Washington Post...so that's my story and I'm sticking to it...I wore a chiffon number black and white from the fifties and a beaded Indian (again as above) necklace looked Chippewa maybe and had my hair in a french roll for the opening...Vigo played and there was no audience so he played an hour and then he said he'd be going and I said fine, them's the breaks kiddo so he went
I stuck with The Island through the three days at my son's house, between this that and the other and I saved the very end of the book for the trip back but I'd had it finished before the ferry docked in Port townsend.  The last line of the story was 'okay baby okay' so I was left to interpret how the rock star dude gets back to real time with the pawn he created in his brother's fiancee...I never know why these happen but they do I guess..what I remember in college was it was my boyfriend's ROOMMATE, Freeley, that I was as nuts about as this gal's fiance's brother...Freeley who said something about me...like heknew..like she in the book knew...like that was it..that was the connection...that was the one you could love...Iknew that about Freeley...and Freeley left college..we found him parking cars in a lot in Seattle.  Freeley, my heart hummed and sang with it...and he became a lawyer...the stud muffin...he wasn't anyting in the campus movers and shakers just a regular guy but one that made my heart spin...just now, remembering it...there he is, causing a ziiinnnggggg...to recall it...oh yeah and I saw his car..that goofy thing he drove all wings in the back...with the spare tire in its own little casket on the trunk, shorter than the big impalas of the day, more like a studebaker in design but that wasn't it..and I saw one in Bellingham and I thought, Freeley...well, I didn't like myname then, back in the days of Freeley, it was Higgins and we were at Catholic school, and Freeley didn't last he dropped out because as I gathered it, he didn't want to get into his roommates way with me, which was really unfortunate because that guy turned out to try and run my life,  like why the character in Island has to ditch him and break the engagement...I didn't get that chance but there it was...and in my life Freeley went back to seattle and his mother worked for Senator Magnuson...I knew that much...I looked him up...Freeley, the guy with the cool hair and Irish freckles like me...that was the first big crush I'd had..the serious one, him, Freeley...and Island..the Island, the story, is exactly what Imight have done were the situation a little different than it was...but Freeley knew he and I had been built out of the same magnet that went ZAP...when two people met like we did first days of college...him talking like he was just ordinary cool and me like I know there was a million other women in the world that might get to first base with Freeley before I did...and then he was gone, something about 'tell that Karin girl''..and I never knew what, tell me what...whew...I don't know that I ever betrayed myself because I was attached with all kinds of obligations to Freeley's roommate..and I was really never interested in him the wayI felt about Freeley...it was always Freeley and Freeley went off to Seattle and I've never seen him again...and it was Freeley that I loved...and though I think it'd be great if I got postcard that said 'okay baby okay'...that happenedin 1969...so you know...that was a while ago...maybe I'm just reflecting on romances and glad that there was the post card in this story...Freeley the last time I saw him he was in a navy jumpsuit in a parking garage in seattle and he hadn't cut his hair