Art and love and the luminosity of such things. . .
I enjoy snippets of my own apartment/studio as fodder for contemplation and inspiration –here a very cool wooden decoy duck yellow eye found object from the yard of a friend and on my chair often I find gifts, a vintage speedometer that I love (thank you. . .?), a paper bag filled with vintage doilies, a bucket of gesso, a copy of Blue Mesa and other literary magazines, and sometimes a note directing me to offerings of rusty wire and such, donuts and other treats. . .$20 in the handle of my door for the wifi we share.
Ahoy! there potential patrons and weary wanderers can we entice you in for cider and clementines. . .a nickel and we’ll tell your fortune or you can tell ours. Happy Holidays!! Art for sell or for free (to look) come in, have a seat, stay awhile tell your friends. Pretty quiet on Canyon but a beautiful day. We gather together in harmony. Patty Griffin making pies all day no one doing laundry. Asti and chocolate and no snow falls. Still darkness comes early.
El Zaguan Holiday Exhibition 545 Canyon 12-4pm on Saturdays through December and most weekdays
Up the block I’m feeding the cat of a friend, and the pigeons, and really it is a bit of a backyard menagerie with the extremely social Polish chickens in feathers of gray and white and black –with showy tufts on top. . .dancing madly across the yard to greet me at the gate. Every time like the first. Time. What joy in their unconditional adoration. Who knew? I smile just to think of them. Their curiosity open and delightful and free from fear. Peck peck nibble. Squawk.
Already December. Narcissism on my mind and really it sounds like a new age ailment/affliction and too noble or needy or (really? how did I get here –again?) to discuss though it is alive and well and sadly I bang my head against self-doubt and responsibility and action as I take steps to extract myself from the clutches of what is no longer benign. And remind myself: It is okay to have an opinion. To (agree to) disagree. To be separate from your lover, boss, friend. . .etc. I am not an appendage. Not your appendage. Enlightenment comes knocking knocking library books and conversation and a few tears on the walk this afternoon. I use to cry everyday –my (ab)normal and now so seldom. From one extreme to the other we go at times to find our way back to center. To balance. To nature and hiking and phone calls to sisters. When one door closes another opens —they say. A whole lifetime ahead of me. Grandma lived to 96 and my mother just celebrated her 80th birthday. Love those chickens.