vistas, surfaces, elements

 

(Preceding seven photographs from The Beatrice Wood Center for the Arts)

that's imposs

 

Dear Distance,

I had forgotten how much I love this song, your song for today.  The Wodehousian 'imposs,' the touch on the clutch, the alienation of proximity, the climaxing anguish.  The bouncy bop juxtaposed against the abject loss.  It is a great song and you can take your arguments elsewhere, boys.  

Didn't you, don't you, feel that way so much?  Even when they are right there, in the next room, the next town?  Even when they are where you are?

sit with the ick

 

Sparer Chairs, David Hockney, 2014. 

Dear Setting,

I thought, when I heard that we were supposed to just sit with our feelings, our bad, icky feelings, that I was already kind of doing that- I feel all kinds of bad feelings, most of most days; but I see now that there is another way to interpret that sentence.  The emphasis is on the 'sit' - resisting the impulse, the compulsion to 'do something.'  This is quite another, much more difficult thing to do.

Just last night, at dinner with a friend: the waitstaff member came over and said the usual kind of things to establish our contact, our social contract for the duration.  They said: I am (insert name), and I will be taking care of you/your server for tonight.  This is a very familiar exchange; we know what is expected of us, and we comply by responding at the appropriate times in the appropriate manner.  But there is also a lot of choice in this exchange.  Was I going to be point person?  Speaking first, was I going to defer always to my companion?  Was I going to say nothing and let my companion always speak first?

The four way intersection with stop signs works because we know the rule: first at the stop bar or to the right goes first.  It cause me a fair amount of anxiety, these intersections, because when they are crowded, or have two lanes in any one direction, I lose track of who arrived where and it what order.  It's a great feeling of relief to transact the four way stop all on your lone, without any other cars at all.  The back and forth of conversation between people that do not know each other is similar- it works because we know we need to 'respond' at certain times.  

Okay, now imagine yourself in one of these Groundhog Day type convos you seem to always be in with a family member:  They say "you know what I hate?" and you feel a flush of 'ick,' because you feel you should intervene in this person's (possibly) uncomfortable feelings of hate, you should help them to feel un-hate by pointing out what a nice day we are having or something like that.  Well, instead of rushing in with the weather, you let it sit there, the statement of hate, and you also sitting, in your feeling of ick.  It's an incredibly bold move, I know.  It's downright subversive, and the feeling of ick is uncommonly powerful and you know if you just said some small thing about the weather and condoned this hate by your complicity, by your responding, that the ick would dissipate some; I mean, how can you just stand there while people say a thing they want a response to?  It's hard, like not even lifting your racket when the ball comes over the net at you; hard like standing there in a game of chicken, trying not to flinch.  Because it is pretty automatic, for me, anyway, to step right up and respond to any and everything.

And, you think?  So?  Well, let's take this non-responding and sitting in the ick slowly, let's just try it, try it somewhere with low stakes, someplace outside of the family.  Maybe when you are ordering food at a restaurant.  Maybe when the waitstaff comes over and needs your answer, you withhold the smiling pleasantries and just state that 'tap water is what you will have to drink.'  It does feel icky, oddly, to me, the pared down facts version of what I will have to drink, because I am not re-assuring and kowtowing.  And that is how I am trying to learn to sit with the ick.

  

PS  There is a song for you, today, for this sitting.

re-make

 

(On a related note, check out the ceramic cat mewseum)

Dear Remorseless,

Today, I am ripping out all of it and re-making my whole life- the past part, of course- the future part is impossible to contain.

Here is where I am starting:  my job will now have been UPS driver.  I have been at it for 27 years, and I love it, because I know all the people I deliver to, and they are always happy to see me.  It isn't a great job, pay-wise, but it's steady work, and it leaves me plenty of time to write in the evenings and play music in my all-girl band.

I also only have punky and net clothing now.  And boots.  Most of it is black, or pink.  My favorite thing to wear is a big crinoline with a men's dress shirt and noisy, clunky, buckled boots.  The shirt is done up partly with safety pins- big gold ones that I got in a junk shop.  I have 12 pairs of fishnet stockings, and I never hesitate to wear the torn ones, with odd shaped holes in the ankles.

I have read all of Truman Capote's books, plays, letters and screenplays, and of course, also, the entirety of Colette.  I only have shelving everywhere.  And ceramic cat figurines.  I have 27 thousand books, and thirteen hundred vinyl records.  There is a sofa, and some chairs.  There is nothing, nothing in the kitchen at all except a moka pot.  All the kitchen cabinetry is filled with books.  I often wish I had time to learn to cook.  I play mah jongg for money and I always win.  I give my winnings to the animal shelter.

I got a law degree, when I was younger, because I didn't like people thinking I wasn't smart enough, but now I know this is just how they make you feel when you are female.  I chose law not because I had an interest in it; only because I thought I could buy your respect by going to school for so many years.  It was a folly, yes; but there is no youth without folly.  Having that degree and doing nothing with it was, after all, the whole point.

A few other details of my re-made past; when you said you thought I was in danger of wasting my life, I threw my drink at you, glass and all.  When you cajoled me into having dinner with you, I packed up all my stuff and moved two days later, and I left no forwarding address.  When you told me I should just ignore it and get on with my life, I slashed your tires and stopped answering your calls.  When you told me it sounded like a mental problem, I burned all your letters and joined a writer's group.  I also never spoke to your thoughtless ass again, because why would I?  That time you made fun of the shirt I liked, the shirt with all the dancing people on it?  That was the day I vowed I would never listen to anyone's advice unless I asked them for it.  It has saved me a lot of consternation, and if I hadn't stopped talking to you after that, I would have thanked you for the lesson.

PS  Here is your song for today.

more flowers

 

budding

 

More on love.

 

Dear End of the Month of Love and Chocolate,

Here is a song for you- if you watch it, keep your eyes out for Nile Rodgers' beautifully transparent guitar.

welcome back, little flowers

 

be that good

 

Dear Broken Hearts,

Don't talk to me about love.  

make it so

 

Dear Dodos,

It's about the time of the year when I review what the Dodo is doing-  February, 2013 is when the Dodo first started, and this makes 13 years; over a dozen years of Dodo posts.  There have been over 1400 posts.  There are more than 893,129 page views.  Most months, there are a total of 8 posts, twice a week.  

It is a good time to wonder what I am doing here, what you are doing here.  It should feel re-assuring, it should feel like we have witnessed it together, it should feel safe & sane, although an occasional outburst is to be expected; it should feel encouraging.  

There is SO much out there, out here, in here.  I don't really know about you, but it feels overwhelming; there are piles and piles of sites I want to visit and read and listen to and look at.  I cannot get it all done- I don't want this space/place to feel like a thing you need to do- it should not be like brushing your teeth or a big 'should.'  Although, then of course the obvious question is why look here at all, then?  Well, I like to hope that it is a bit curated, a bit thoughtful and not just another place that must provide content to you, dear consumer.  Ugh.  See, I don't really think of you like that, a consumer.  I think of you as a friend, and I want to touch you in that way.  

Even so, things change, and the meaning and purpose of things change.  I like to put the things I am excited about, or engaged in, here, for you to maybe take, maybe not.  Maybe become engaged in, maybe just walk on by.  It's a big world, I won't feel hurt if you don't have time; as a woman once told me, I am not inventing a narrative about why you couldn't be here. (Although, oh!  It is so tempting!  Narrative no. 1:  You were on your way here, going through the car wash, when the machine broke down, and you and your car were trapped in an endless shower of suds!  Narrative no. 2:  You attended a candlelight vigil in your park, to commemorate all that ever was, and you stayed there so late, with all the other beautiful mourners, that you didn't wake up when your alarm went off!  Narrative no. 3:  Instead of coming here, you went and did the three things you have been meaning to do since 2022: schedule your shingles vaccine, rotate your tires, and call someone to have that old piano hauled away!)

Shall we meet here again this year as usual, then?  Make it so.

2800: same old song

 

Sims skate wheel

Dear Skaters,

Today is day 2,800 of daily roller skating.  I am still doing it, and I intend to keep on at it, but today, I don't have much to say about it.  It may be that I have grown tired of trying to induce you to enjoy roller skating; it may be that I have grown tired of making suggestions of any kind, period.  When I think about it, all this unsolicited advice and curated stuff, I wonder that anyone has any time or inclination for such things.  I read a lot of good things on the internet, and there are heaps of good things I don't make the time for, even though I'd like to read them, to watch them, to learn from them.

If there was a purpose, to my dashing off a couple of letters a week to you, here, it might be to encourage you, to let you know that you can do it, whatever it is; that there are no negative consequences- you can try to play the trombone, because, why not?  You can try to make your own paintbrush, to sew a pair of kid gloves, to write a television script.  In fact, I hope you try all four of those things, and roller skating, too.  However, if you are busy defending human rights this week and the next, you might not have the time, and that's fine too.

Oh, and I almost forgot, I have a song for you for today, too.

cake, because you can

 

film still from Věra Chytilová’s film Daisies*

Dear Ovens, and Kitchens, and Pans, and Things,

This for you!  There are other places to find this same recipe, but no matter where you get it, be sure to make it.  I have made it twice in 6 weeks.  It's that good.  If you do not want a lot of Sea Salt Butter Cake, make a half recipe; it comes out dandy!  I didn't have the Einkorn flour; I used a heritage bread flour.  I would say use whatever you have, or go out and find the fancy flour; just don't let not having it stop you from making it.

PS  Marla's jewelry company is pretty neat-o, too.  Have a look, but cake is going to be a lot cheaper than these baubles.

PPS Here's another nice thing, cake porn!  I see very clearly that I need to up my game on the look of my cakes!

PPPS  Yes, of course I think you see it; I think you should see all of Věra Chytilová’s films!  I think my life is richer for  the three I have seen, and I wish I'd seen them sooner.  I also think my pressuring you to grab these riches, these treasures, like cakes and films, is perhaps just pressure in general, and it's not my intention to make you feel like you have another thing you need to do, or that your life will only be complete if you do such and such.  Take it or leave it, all of it.  Watch tiktok instead; you won't even have to make a decision in that case, because it. just. keeps. running. on.

for you

 

Dear Everybody,

There was an extra delicious sky the other evening; I saved you some!  Please enjoy!