A serial piece exploring a year in the life of a woman who loved a mad man, as told through her journal entries. You can view the entire series (in reverse order) here.
ee cummings-somewhere i have never traveled. Performance and slide show by Catherine Vibert.
Today I was listening to the ee cummings poem improvisation I made for you. I remember giving you that for Valentine’s Day a few years ago. I always had the feeling ee cummings was speaking of something spiritual when he wrote that poem, but when I made that rendition, I thought of you. The power of your eyes on me…like when you walked into class that day, and sat down next to me and just looked at me for what seemed like an eternity. My blood turned to treacle and I knew then that I was hooked on you, and completely powerless. It has been like that for so many years. That poem for me explains perfectly the effect you had on me then, and still have on me now. I don’t know if that is good or bad. I think I was angry at you at the moment I made it, something about it seems angry…
I watched you from the kitchen window as you focused on your work and puffed away on that silly clove cigarette… Just seeing a look of satisfaction in your face, what a funny juxtaposition against the ever-present wildness.
I wonder what it is about you (that closes and opens) that I am so very drawn to (whose texture compels me with the color of its countries) that brings out all the sweetness I’ve ever felt for anyone (rendering death and forever in each breathing) and multiplies it by thousands…
(Nobody, not even the rain has such small hands…)
Oh jesus, such romantic crap. I simply don’t understand why it is that whenever you look at me, still, I forgive whatever trouble you have caused in my life, and in the lives of all the other hundreds of women you have devastated with that stupid gaze of yours. Why do I do this? There must be something terribly wrong with me. Why did God pick me to be the whole world of second chances? I don’t get it.
A thin veil of glass
It will be gone when you wake,
Love knows no separation…
Joel called today to talk about our upcoming camping trip at the beach before the media conference. I get the feeling he and Susan broke up. Bad timing!