The world is divided into fun-loving girls and serious girls.
The world is divided into fun-loving girls and serious girls.
“I WANT TO SEE HOW I LOOK IN THE MIRROR WITH MY EYES CLOSED”
Where does a non-believer find strength? Is strength gathered? Or is it generated? Should it be canned and preserved for cold winters, or scattered and shared? And then what if you run out? Strength is not available at the store, I’ve looked. I asked the sales clerk and she said no we don’t carry that, it’s nearly impossible to find but in the meantime try this: and she gave me a long black gown and a diamond bracelet and even a box full of stylish casual clothing. I looked beautiful. For five days (or five years?), wherever I went, I was the most beautiful girl in the room. Handsome men with kind hearts fell in love with me. Then I stopped caring whether I was the most beautiful girl, or caring too much, so the dress and the bracelet and the stylish casual clothing no longer served a purpose. I almost began to slouch. I could easily have picked up a smoking/texting habit. I decided to step back.
So that was that. I’m still trying. The other day I realized I hadn’t seen or walked through a meadow in a very long time, maybe years. It’s possible that strength is available in meadows. I’m stuck with all this stylish casual clothing, so I’ll have to wear it to the meadow. But it’s comfortable, and when I’m alone, weightless. I will go to the meadow with a package of velcro, without a camera. I will gather the strength and velcro it to my stylish casual clothing until I’m covered. My hope is that strength absorbs. Does strength absorb?
Dear Lincoln,
Welcome to your life! Come in and make yourself comfortable. We are so happy you’re here! We’ve prepared wonderful treats for your arrival. Please stay awhile. We have enough to last years. One day you’ll go to Paris, one day you’ll sing a song, but right now you are too young. Maybe you’ll be an artist, or an archeologist, or an attorney. How was your journey? Are you hungry or thirsty? Everything here is new, it’s all been prepared for you. I’ve been in my life a little while, but not so long that the furniture is old. Oh, much later it grows mold, but that’s so far off! Even for me! In the meantime let’s climb trees! Do you like the room? If you don’t that’s okay, you can rearrange, but first you must learn about change. This takes time, but there is time enough. For pirates and hooks and books about crooks and bedtime nooks and chessboard rooks and silly looks and Dvorak and cats and doorbells and mats and the crack of a baseball bat, even things like rearranging and changing. Do you see that pinhole in the wall? If you press your eye to it you’ll see the future. Are you mature? Are you tall? What is your goal? asks the pinhole. Can you fly? How high? Retreat! That pinhole is a bore, it’ll make you snore, just know it’s there, rather like your hair. Two lessons: the future is yours to make like a delicious cake, and never listen to anyone who says the word “matoor.” Just nod and say shoor shoor Mr. Matoor, and ride away to the seashore! Still, you must finish your chores. A messy room makes for messy dreams and messy schemes and then how will you defeat King StinkyFeet if you’re room isn’t neat? I’m so happy you’re here Lincoln! May I help you bake your future cake? Soon you will know words, and words are very first ingredients. A word here, a word there. And colors like green and blue. Might you help me with my cake too? I’m still getting it right.
Love, Aunt Yvonne
HARD PEOPLE WITHOUT IMAGINARY ISSUES
Believer: Do you find any sort of parallel between hard labor and the writing life?
Padgett Powell: I believed at the time I came out of that (labor) that I would be a better writer for having done it, and for being in physical shape. I still subscribe to this idea. I am suspicious of a soft body.
BLVR: Is there anything about hard labor you miss?
PP: After thirty, working for a living with your body is contraindicated. You always miss being around hard people without imaginary issues
TODAY’S PARADOX
Two disgusting things happened: someone vomitted in the entrance and main hallway of my apartment building and it smells like rotting meat and bile. Also, I sneezed and didn’t realize I’d blown a snot rocket onto my pants until half an hour later when I touched it and got it all over my hand.
All this yet I can’t stop eating. A pile of eggs and guacamole and vegetables, a basket raspberries, Starburst, Reece’s peanut butter cups, potato skins, and now a slice of pumpkin pie.
REGARDING HALLOWEEN
Molly (see below) is right. That desire to surrender to nothingness is for me a result of my high expectations for Halloween as a child. These expectations were almost always met. It was the one of the only occasions for which my family had a tradition: the garage spook house. This spook house was an involved project, bordering on theater, and made with the not-so-secret intention of sending Baptist children crying to their mothers.
The year we turned the garage into a swamp remains vivid. D&D Towing brought us a beat-up Oldsmobile? Buick? Cadillac? with no front windshield, which we covered with plants and moss and dead leaves. There was a fog machine of course. And the sound of insects. And dark purple lighting. Trick-or-treaters were directed to crawl through the front bucket seats, so they all expected my father to jump out from the back, but he was crouched in the engine cavity. I recall feeling scared despite knowing it was my father there.
And that was the point of Halloween, feeling scared. Kids wore costumes and trick-or-treated and felt scared, and adults wore costumes and gave out candy and scared kids. No one was drunk, or slutty even.
There’s no sense in wishing for the inevitable, but still: this year I want to skip ahead to the feeling of having surrendered Halloween night to nothingness— to an overstretched candy-corn-for-dinner stomach and a book and no curiosity whatsoever about what anyone else is doing.
THE AUTUMN LEAVES
Feeling down? Wander the aisles of a big box store, spend 100 dollars on things you need, and pocket something small and frivolous, like a tube of lipstick or a 4-pack of Pentel Rollerball pens. This will probably not lighten your mood, but it will validate your bad feelings about yourself. If you weren’t sure your character was questionable, you can be sure that it is now. And it feels good to be right.