Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Monday, May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014
Handel arias on Spotify.
Afternoon, my fan fixed at my head, a configuration with which will become familiar in this attic study through the approaching summer, and those after, God willing. But it’s nice to be warm, whatever the proportions. Marco visited for a few minutes, and brought me a cactus in a planter like the nosecone of a rocket. A stinkbug appeared on the wall as we talked, and he marched it outside to prevent the fate I had prepared for it, a ride through the plumbing. Sunday was overful, and I made subtractions from the schedule. Pizza with my Tolkieners tonight ends my official duties for the semester. The purchase of the pizza was a surprisingly elaborate operation.
I had a long contemplation on Easter written out, but God chose to obliterate it with a quick power failure: my sign to go back and consider again.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014
The bitter anniversary.
Slept till it was light (pale, opaline) after a fantastic day. I went to the Toyota place to have my electronic key renewed (turns out I could have done it myself) and of necessity passed Jesse Israel’s on the way. Bought and planted a wisteria tree (the one I got for four times the price mailed to me being still a dead stick) and various rock garden and shade garden plants. Gave those to the ground, then went for a wonderful session at the studio. I was happy. A wonderful session at the studio is one of which one has very little memory afterwards, all systems running on automatic. Came home, drank wine in the sun of my backyard, sobered up and then went to the rug sale at Togar’s. I’m going to have to add another room before I buy any more Oriental carpets.
In the evening I did my reading for Wordfest. It was a triumph, I think, on every side. Saw people such as Jackie Shelton-Green whom I had not seen in, maybe, decades. Ethan came up from Charleston, not for me, exactly, but including me in his travel plans. He looks like a man now. The last time I saw him he looked like a boy. The work on all sides of me was excellent, and my work was excellent (I knew this as it came from my tongue) and for a while all ambitions and yearnings in that area were assuaged.
One thing I bought from Ebay came broken; another, a leather jacket, blasted me with complicated odors as I opened the box. It had belonged to a smoker, and the bass notes were cigarettes. Over this and to mask this he or she had applied perfume. The jacket spent the night on my porch airing out.
The bitter anniversary.
Slept till it was light (pale, opaline) after a fantastic day. I went to the Toyota place to have my electronic key renewed (turns out I could have done it myself) and of necessity passed Jesse Israel’s on the way. Bought and planted a wisteria tree (the one I got for four times the price mailed to me being still a dead stick) and various rock garden and shade garden plants. Gave those to the ground, then went for a wonderful session at the studio. I was happy. A wonderful session at the studio is one of which one has very little memory afterwards, all systems running on automatic. Came home, drank wine in the sun of my backyard, sobered up and then went to the rug sale at Togar’s. I’m going to have to add another room before I buy any more Oriental carpets.
In the evening I did my reading for Wordfest. It was a triumph, I think, on every side. Saw people such as Jackie Shelton-Green whom I had not seen in, maybe, decades. Ethan came up from Charleston, not for me, exactly, but including me in his travel plans. He looks like a man now. The last time I saw him he looked like a boy. The work on all sides of me was excellent, and my work was excellent (I knew this as it came from my tongue) and for a while all ambitions and yearnings in that area were assuaged.
One thing I bought from Ebay came broken; another, a leather jacket, blasted me with complicated odors as I opened the box. It had belonged to a smoker, and the bass notes were cigarettes. Over this and to mask this he or she had applied perfume. The jacket spent the night on my porch airing out.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014
Realization that a number of women in the Wednesday class cheated on the exam. Someone kept a prompt from Tuesday and distributed it. It was folly to use the same prompt for both days, I suppose, but folly based on trust. It is wearisome. It was related in my mind to Russia’s fantastic mendacity concerning Crimea, to invade and blame the victim for aggression, to invent out of thin air and defy correction rather than face the reality of the deed. I thought it was just the Republicans, but the whole world is like that. Evidence is mocked at as a kind of absurdity. Truth is what you say with pure-hearted self-justification. Among the things I worried about for the End of Days, this never appeared until it was fully abroad in the world.
Nevertheless, one’s own life churns along. Excellent hours at the studio yesterday. The garden there looks well. I made it relatively labor-free as I never did at 62. I finished paintings I’m going to give to the new babies in the department.
I sat in my backyard in the sun. I think the edge of the soccer fields at Hiram with Heather was the last time I sat in the sun without the ocean nearby. It was blissful. Only the thought of sunburn and cancer made me move at all. The only place from which I am visible naked in my yard--should I be-- is from my old house. Maybe I'll keep it for the sake of modesty.
In the evening I went to Wordfest in the Lenoir-Rhymes rooms at the Chamber of Commerce. Excellent refreshments. Excellent gospel/blues singer. Excellent poet named Irania who did her song-like works in English and Spanish. Laura is a vibrant if overabundant introducer. The problem with striving for inclusiveness is that some of the things included are going to be bad. I am perpetually amazed at the capacity of my people for hearing the same old thing in the same old way. I read tonight. I was the only one who reads tonight who listened to the ones who read last night.
I have too many plans for today to achieve them all. That is well. It assures joyful receipt of the following day. Many, many birds singing in the tree tops. The trees between me and the supermarket are thronged with frogs
Friday, May 2, 2014
Cheaters
It is clear that some of my students cheated on my Humanities exam. I gave the same one to both classes, and someone took the exam Wednesday and gave it to friends who had the exam Thursday. It was a hard exam, and when 100's and 95's began to show up on the 2nd day only, my suspicions were aroused. It makes me sad, like finding your own child is a liar or a thief. Nothing to be done, at least be me, now.
May 2, 2014
Furnace woke me into the surprising chill of the morning. Vertigo at first waking, holding onto the walls as I moved. The house is still a little strange, the perspectives into the yard by night yet a little unsettling. Went to bed very early last night, and there were deep thicknesses of dreams. In one I bought a sapphire for Aunt Marian. DJ and I saw Captain America: the Winter Soldier. Liked it , and thought its message– that some dark individuals and institutions use chaos, secrecy, misinformation in order to frighten us into compliance with their wills– one worth hearing. Tried the King James pub afterwards, liking that very much indeed. Blake was there, looking spectacular, surrounded by women, one of whom he left with. The cleaning lady and the yard boys all came yesterday; I feel very much looked after. The back yard at 62 is the forest floor thronged with fern and wood hyacinth and violet that I strove for all those years. I doubt I will ever recreate it here. Ireland in the spring. It’s hard to look at.
Students frantic at their exam yesterday, wanting comfort without responsibility. Among the things for which I have no patience. They resent having to remember things.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
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