before there could be an urge to hurry to get the book, The Woman Upstairs, having just finished reading it...i told you i was a fast reader...i want to say that i would retract my glorious and always hopefull hope about novels. and i admit, it's been so long since i read a novel. so who am i to say, but don't rush out because i got all excited. it's a wonderful novel. she is a wonderful writer.
but it's not about making art for me. Bummer.
So. O KAY. that done for another ten or fifteen years give or take, i am going to go stitch.
Love,
ok. it's almost 7p. a lot of thinking. and i will send the book along, Julie. anyway. and some things just floated through the air here, of their own accord: More to "go" on. info. floating info. the person to whom i was married for 10 years has been dead now for 8. We were an extremely unlikely pair. all we had going for us that was obvious was that we were beautiful together. as in, pretty. nice to look at.
and somewhere along page 187 of the book in question, i thought: Why is what i Make so important to me? because it is my Story, that has no story, really, but begins/ends/begins/ends day unto day, never complete in any way at all, but somehow it's my story and i need to tell my story to myself. i need to. so i Make stuff. to show myself.
myself. my very singular interior self.
but then, by showing "YOU", by showing this depiction of my interior self to You, i am asking.........Can you See me? and then over time, what i then want to ask is Can you see me enough to know me? a little?, some?
and really, since the book was so much about Love, i thought about that person i was married to. How i was so sure that i did not want that connection. that i'd left what i'd left and done what i'd done with the single urge to "find the basic equation" and to
make art.
but he said something to me, whenever he could see me waver. he said
"i know you, grace" and he would look directly at me. "i know you." Sometimes he would also say, "i'll be your best dream and your worst nightmare", which in fact he was, but it was the I know you that i wanted to see.
and the Goats were feeling close up this evening
and here...a single bindweed. that gets no, as in Zero, water. kin to morning glories, it goes to sleep at night. closes it's blooms only to open them in the morning. i forgot to take its pic this morning. maybe tomorrow.
