November 4, 2005, 4:56 PM I am hurrying toward the Y for a 5'00 workshop with Michael McFee. Parked on Salina at a meter that is theoretically active til6. I am using a brand new poem I just wrote this afternoon, and very hastily. I am writing on the new Psion I bought used and then broke by falling badly with it the first day I had it. It is still in pieced--wished I'd have gotten Keith to fix it.
I walk down the street, a deserted street after the crowds on Salina where I parked, under the honey locusts whose gold glow is fading under a darkening sky and the church bells--I'm late. Someone came to my door as I was trying to get my poem ready and shove some food in my face. They begin peeling out, first one and then another. 5'00.
I am over-dressed for the evening and getting warm. Another bell is peeling. And now another.
Collette Inez is reading November 7.
7:13 PM The workshop is over, it was fun and somewhat helpful.
Now Michael McFee is going to read. Scott is on one side of me, Georgia Popoff on the other, Jennifer McPherson behind me. Lots of people I know.
9:10 The reading is over and Scott and I are at the Coffee Pavilion. He's having coffee and I am having a huge cup of herbal tea. There is a very loud jazz band playing so we can’t talk or read poetry as we planned and Scott is all offended because they put a sign on our table (the first one by the door) asking for a tip.
The Michael McFee workshop and reading were fun and good. There will be a good workshop and reading next week but I'll miss it because I'll be out of town.
I take a couple shots of the band with and without a small tripod--without first, then with, but they move around so much that even with the tripod, the picture won't come out. The Noah Kilman Trio. That's the name of the band; they look like high-school kids, a little strange and nerdy but pretty good.
A little loud, too.
Scott borrowed a pen and took my napkin and seems to be writing a poem.
I would write a poem too. I like it best when I get that poetic feeling. Something slips inside me, and I get "that poetic feeling." I was just wandering what it was, and I think it is sort of like "The Flash" in Emily of New Moon, by L.L. Montgomery (good book!). It’s a feeling of intense awareness and connectedness with the world. A rush, a high of sorts. For me, nature often does it. Writing poetry or revising poetry also does it. So I can create the poetic feeling by reading or writing poetry. Sometimes.
But there is that hump you have to get over, like flying in a dream. You stand transfixed and leaden, or fall like a stone, unless you can remember that you can fly. And then there is that leap of faith where all fearful and unbelieving, you take that first step off the cliff into nothingness.
That's the pen, scratching its first word on the blank paper. The thing I have yet to do tonight, I haven’t yet stepped off the cliff. I am standing securely a few feet from the edge, holding a piece of granite, peering into the abyss.
This afternoon, I plunged in, all willy-nilly and desperate because I had that workshop in a few minutes and wanted something to bring.
Scott is still writing like mad.
Jazz doesn't affect me like nature does. Like night and snowstorms and solitude. It’s noisy and hard to follow. Now a sax player gets up. Another kid, also good. Each of them sounds good, the music is fairly good, but the overall effect is dissonant and verging on unpleasant.
If I went outside and looked at the yellow trees lit by the odd lamplight against the black sky, I'd be more likely to "feel poetic."
Scott gave me what he wrote. It was not exactly poetry, more personal reflection. He wanted what he was writing to come out on the Psion.
I wanted to write about my Mom.
The Nightmare of Dementia
"I've been trying to remember the name of my street," my mother says to me, when I arrive at Loretto.
"Oh," I ask, and what is it?" I inquire.
"Ellsworth Ave," she says, and I nod. Yep. I've given up arguing or explaining. There is no point in telling her that she hasn't lived on Ellsworth Ave for more than sixty years. She won't remember for even 30 seconds.
She wants me to take her there, now that she has finally remembered. She remembers very few minutes. I try telling her she lives here, at the nursing home. I try telling her I'm busy and have other plans. Nothing works. Instead, I take her for a walk. Every little while, she tells me she doesn’t know where she left her car. Or that Pa is home waiting for her and she needs to go home and make dinner for him. If I mention he's dead, she's horrified, for 30 seconds, and then forgets. As I push her wheelchair alone past trees with lovely autumn color, she carries on a running monologue repeating certain themes. "I don't know where I am, I've lost the car, I need to get home, I need to check on Grandma." I try to assure her that everything is OK, but of course, it's not OK. Everyone she's looking for is dead. And she is unwell. Her confusion makes things worse. She's living a nightmare.
* * *
Saturday, November 5, 2005, I am sitting on the side of the road at Scotts pace at Three Rivers in an orange hat and vest. My Ollie ran out of batteries and the spare battery us lost. Oly won’t work either, there is some issue. I didn't bring Eeyore because I was afraid Scott would become impatient with me, but he was taking as many pictures as I was. He's waking toward me down the road and I'd love to get a shot of him, but I'm image-less.
I stopped here to get s hot of this incredibly beautiful field with all the brilliant yellows, oranges and mustards, and the flecks of red. But the camera won't work! Wahn. It's a perfect day. Very warm for November, we're warm in T-shirts. Utterly gorgeous color. It's clouded up though. Peepers are peeping.
4:40 PM I am home after being away ALL DAY LONG. After Our walk, we ate a latish lunch at The B'ville Diner. I was really into COMFORT FOOD and got meatloaf, home fries, coleslaw, water with lemon and cherry pie. It was a lot of food and I scarfed down every crumb of it. I've been really hungry. After having no appetite for two weeks, I've been very hungry. I don't need to gain weight! I'm too fat already, but I feel SO Hungry.
Yesterday the day before yesterday, I was really hungry late at night, and each night, I ate a half a bag of corn chips. WAHN!
I wanted to write a "piece" on comfort food.
To top things off, I am now back to having one of those problems no one wants to talk or hear about. It's uncomfortable and waste of time. Grrr!
6:31 PM I’m sitting here wasting time again, but maybe this time it won't be such a waste. Meanwhile, I downloaded today's pix and sent then off to Scott, Ofelia etc. Then I Photoshopped one of them, entered it in the Better Photo contest, posted it to my gallery, and also posted it to Imagik and to Silk Creek Portal. It was a picture of the Spiral Grove, and I posted it as a vertical, but I think I might like it better as a horizontal with some of the tall treetops cropped out. I find them distracting. I'm not sure, but if I like it better that way, I can't post it until tomorrow, well, I could post it on my sites, but not enter it. One a day is all.
I have one more thing to do to wrap up that project and then I need to get going on other stuff.
Unload the car, water the plants, sort the mail, frame pictures, write Bruce, write the lawyer. EAT. Braid my hair. I wore it down today because I was running late this AM, but I need to braid it before bed.
6:37 is not exactly bedtime, but since I'm not going out and I tend to get busy later talking to Keith etc, I’d be better off to do it now. It helps hold the CPAP in place.
Sunday, November 6, 2005, 3:42 PM I am sitting on the ground under my tripod moping because I saw a shot I wanted and the sun was out, but as soon as I got the tripod set up, a big front moved in and covered to sun. I have the circular polarizer on and the clouds are great, but without the sun, no good, and it may not come out again today. At least it’s not raining. It was, earlier.
I am out alone and happy to be, looking to take pictures for my better photo course of color. And rule of thirds horizons, but, I may get neither, and I hope I don’t get soaked. I do have gear bags with me.
I need a wide angle lens for the sky but have no circular polarizer for the wide angle. A hunter thwarted my original attempts. I don't have enough hands or containers, so I have my flash and filters stuffed inside my bra.
Very storm black sky approaching! And with it, lots of wind.
4:08 PM It's raining. Not too hard, yet, but the sky is very black and it’s very windy. I am about 22 and a half minutes from the car, and it's thundering! I folded up the tripod and slipped the waterproof gear bag over Eeyore. I thought I had two with me, but I only have one, and ton of gear.
My orange anti hunter hat just blew away and I had to run after it with all my gear banging around. More thunder.
In an effort to protect my gear, I plan a couple shortcuts and pick up the pace. This will cut my walk short, but it's raining harder and harder.
WOW! Awesome lightning displays. Massive thunder, and even with shortcuts, its a ways to the car.
4:28 I shorted myself about 5 minutes, walked 40.
I left the car unlocked.
I climbed in with all my gear still attached then unloaded it and peeled off my literally sopping and dripping blue shirt. By black shirt is soaked too. I'd take that off but there's a man in another car.
I had planned on going over the other part of 3 R, but it's gotten dark and is very rainy.
5:60 PM I am sitting in the parking lot at Wegman's after loading the groceries I got into the car. I didn't have a list, so I hope I got what I needed. I am feeling happy. I feel good, I feel comfortable, I feel excited about my work, I am eager to work on the pictures for the course and the pictures for the show. I am happy to be in Syracuse where people are seeking me out and I'm not an unknown nobody with almost no friends. I can do what I want when I want to, sort of, that is, I have no schedules to factor in but my own except for talking to Keith. I am looking forward to seeing Keith on the weekend. I feel good, I feel happy. Hope the sky is not about to fall.
I’m still very wet from my excursion in the rain and if it were a normal November, I’d be severely chilled. But instead, I'm just a little chilled because it's so warm out. Even well after dark.
No comments:
Post a Comment