Friday, September 13, 2024
Tuesday, September 10, 2024
a whole lot of medicine
Three Sheep, Henri Moore, 1972.
Dear People,
Your song for today. While we are listening, let's pretend we are somebody else. I'll go first: I am a shepherdess, camped in the high mountains, but soon it will be time for me and my flock to head to the foothills. I have a little caravan I live in; there is room only for slow things; a guitar, pens and paper, knitting needles, some watercolor paints. I have been writing to you all summer, trying to tell you about the deep quiet in the darkest part of the night; how it is sometimes broken by a disturbance in the flock. When I get down to the foothills in a few more weeks, there will be people to talk with and spend time with, and I wonder, will I remember how to speak in the language I haven't used since May? What will I say when they ask 'what have you been doing?'
Thursday, September 5, 2024
on outdoor sofas
Dear Furnished,
The couch on the porch is gone now. How did it come to be on the porch, I would ask myself- it is a marker, I believe, of white trashdom. It was one of only two sofas we had growing up. The first place I remember, a house; had two sofas. One was a dark blue, nearly a night blue, with orange and other, less indistinct colors of flowers on it. I think there was a red, a purple. It had a flounce, a ruffle at the bottom. The other couch was a bamboo armed thing, with a chair that matched, in a kind of bumpy green striped upholstery. Celery green, a pale gold, dun, and off white narrow stripes. I remember both of these fabrics, the feel, the look, with an intense fondness, even though the stripe was rather scratchy in a polyester way, and the floral was a canvasy twill that you couldn't call soft, either. I think maybe it was the closeness I am fond of. I could lie face down on these fabrics, I could turn and face the back cushion, I could pull my legs up under me on these fabrics. There was a snugness. Also, it was a place to be near other beings. A communal coziness, then.
*I think maybe I still hate that big house for being so needy.
Sunday, September 1, 2024
September
Dear Ones,
Your song for today is Silver Dagger (also known as Katie Dear, Awake, Ye Drowsy Sleepers, etc.)! From every link, a heart doth dangle.
O! Molly Dear Go Ask Your Mother
Awake, Awake You Drowsy Sleepers