Today I begin a trip down a road I wish I could avoid – the anniversary of my mother’s death. Twenty-nine butterflies will accompany me, one every day until I meet once more the very moment when she paused, looked back, and left behind whatever it was that was holding her here.
things drinking coffee out of a 70’s novelty mug can fix:
nerves from an icy drive home
underachievement in the motivation department
thirst
things drinking coffee out a 70s novelty mug can NOT fix:
realizing how often what i really needed was to talk to you, and now it is too late.
I woke one morning and it was perfectly clear to me that my life, currently, is a harrowing redux of my world at 19 – fitfully pointing a lens at my world with unconscious intent but too scared to believe in what I see, with no idea how to earn a living and support myself, or how to settle into what I am meant to become. Tonight I realized how ironically apt the comparison is: just like my last days in the family apartment, I even live walking distance from the nightclub (where, I grant you, there is generally less nose candy, and a LOT more knitting, but still…). And I when I see her, I wish with all my heart she had taken more joy and pictures in the life she had.
Well, yes, it did take me until almost 11:00 pm to finish 14 hearts for 14th of February…you can’t hurry love.
Did you know I take special orders? Any color your heart desires, as long as it is sky blue and reminds you of how popsicles are just like love – take it, break it, share it. ( I stole that from Mad Men. I don’t have to think of everything, you know.)
You’re welcome.
Froggy went a-courtin’ and he did ride, uh-huh
Froggy went a-courtin’ and he did ride, uh-huh
Froggy went a-courtin’ and he did ride
A sword and a pistol by his side, uh-huh.
He rode up to Miss Mousey’s door, uh-huh
He rode up to Miss Mousey’s door, uh-huh
He rode up to Miss Mousey’s door
Where he had been many times before, uh-huh
He took Miss Mousey on his knee, uh-huh
Took Miss Mousey on his knee, uh-huh
Took Miss Mousey on his knee
Said, “Miss Mousey, will you marry me ?” uh-huh.
“Without my uncle Rat’s consent, uh-huh
Without my uncle Rat’s consent, uh-huh
Without my uncle Rat’s consent
I wouldn’t marry the president, uh-huh”.
A photo studio is similar to a theater in many respects, the most salient being that, like a theater, it allows things to exist as they truly are – which is to say, symbolically and metaphorically, instead of mundanely. Despite our rich figurative potential, however, the Tableaux of Women arrayed in the Prep Room today went unremarked and unrecorded by pixel or film. The lovely gazelles and their fashionable handlers on one side, all beautiful flesh and evidence of Times’ disloyalty; while across tables piled with stacks of pants and polo shirts, we labor in sensible shoes, wielding steamers and hot irons like magic wands, with bodies that store more than they spend. And at the head of the table, Seamstresses, whirring whirring whirring their machines, Fitting and Stitching, to make even the perfect appear sublime, all the better to lure you toward the Sirenum scopuli, enchanted by visions of what you could be, with just a few Alterations.
Today I hugged about 10 people I have known for 9 years at work, and all of them seemed happy about it, except John who said I should use less tongue next time (he’s funny).
Today someone I barely know told me how love, home, and work were suddenly lost, and I wanted to let him know that its all so real, and nothing real has been lost at all, but for some reason I told him about losing my hair instead.
Today I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with one of my dearest friends; and we listened, side by side, to tales of survival and accomplishment from women to whose friendship we both owe more than can be repaid.
Today, I came home after dark, and made this picture, and I liked it so much, I had another serving of diet strawberry jello with cream, and kissed you good night.
“Every act counts….This is all the path we have.” Pema Chodron
Harry, Marlene and Bob, Car Whisperers
Harry would like me to have a better car, but he knows the Maxima and I love each other; Bob always tells me I did the right thing, which I genuinely need to hear; and Marlene, like all divinities, tends her plants and people with a wry smile and fearless hands.
See the hearts?
what is beautiful remains 