Also, they want you to be advised that during the coronavirus outbreak, it is best to register your copyrights online because they will be seriously under-staffed in the actual offices. You can find out all you need to know about that here.
As an aside…
My beloved Granville Inn texted me around noon and said they were shutting down their refrigerators/walk-ins and did I — basically one of two vegetarians in the entire county (it feels like) — want any veggies??
Yay!
So off I went! I actually got to drive really fast again on the highway. It felt so good after my quarantine!! I did see the Sheriff but he was occupied, so I slowed down while in his field of vision, then went super fast the moment I was off his radar…
Then I played my music really loud and smiled gleefully. And I actually got to see some human beings — from 6 feet away!!
And now I have more fruits & veggies & cheese & pretzels (I’m a well-known pretzel addict) than I can possibly eat! (Including asparagus which I don’t think I’ve had since last summer!!)
People are so nice.
Yes, I have pictures of Nick Cave on my kitchen table. I thought everyone did…
Well, Spring starts tomorrow! That’s really good news, right?
What I love about the seasons, gang, is how reliable they are. They always come back around. I love that the sun comes up each day, too, and that the moon goes through its phases each month “like clockwork,” and the ocean waves keep coming back to the shore.
These are all things to think about right now. And also that everything passes through, moves on, transforms.
As we’d feared, though, Nick Cave finally came to the decision to postpone the start of the European Ghosteen tour. He announced it today on the Nick Cave web site, and also in his Red Hand Files letter this morning. (I’m guessing his server crashed from all the responses he got to that announcement, though! I sent a response and his server told me “too many comments, slow down” or something like that.)
Also, things to keep in the mix as you hang out, like me, in your isolation and/or quarantine, the world over right now (meaning March 19, 2020), there are over 137,000 known cases of the virus but over 123, 000 of those are mild. Close to 86,000 people have now recovered. China now has more recoveries than people who are sick with the virus, and the professional show business news outlets, expect movie theaters in China to be open again by the end of March (about 2 weeks away).
So, like all other viruses and epidemics, it comes and passes through. And we adjust to all of it. The UK news outlets yesterday carried the story of Dr. Dongchen Wu of the Wuhan area of China who has cured 9 elderly patients now of Covid 19 by use of stem cell injections.
Assuming this is accurate news, it gives us reason to hope that by the next “flu season” there could be a cure or vaccine for this. There are good reasons to balance the stress and difficulties of “right now” with these other ideas.
As illustrated by China right now, the virus comes in, balloons, subsides. It doesn’t just come and stay eternally.
Also, at least here in America, people get really angry when you compare the Covid 19 virus with the regular “flu,” because we allegedly “know” what the flu is and what it’s doing, but it seems evident that just this season alone, between 22,000 – 55,000 Americans have died from the flu. And between 370,000 – 670,000 were actually hospitalized because of it. So we still don’t have a grip on the flu by any stretch, but we have managed to find a way to still live our lives in the wake of it, every single year. (The stats come from the Center of Disease Control.)
These are just things to think about in the midst of everything bombarding us on the national news. There is always the reality of
“right now” alongside the reality of change.
Meanwhile, here in Muskingum County, no outbreaks yet. We still have toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towels. We still have food. We still have gasoline at $1.83 per gallon.(Which could be an indication that I’m actually dead now and living in the afterlife, which, in that case, means you should disregard everything I’ve just written above!!)
If you follow me on Instagram (whether from the afterlife or from Earth), you saw that I actually ventured out and got a pizza last evening! I have never done that in the 2 years I’ve lived in Crazeysburg. I love pizza but I don’t eat it too often because in this part of the country, it simply doesn’t compare to the pizza you can get in NYC. Sorry to have to say that, but, alas, it is true.
But I was really hungry and I’d been stuck inside alone for about 96 hours straight already (not exaggerating on that, gang) and I thought, not only would pizza be great, but it would also support the one & only restaurant here in Crazeysburg. (You can only get take-out in Ohio now; there’s a Governor’s mandate right now that no one can congregate in bars or restaurants, so all those establishments are really hurting financially.)
So I went out and got a pizza!! Yay. (Cheese, onions and green olives. Is that weird? I really like green olives on my pizzas. I’m not sure why.) It was indeed weird, though, inside the place because of course the women who work at the pizzeria aren’t allowed to get anywhere near you. (Oh, we also have plenty of hand sanitizer here, too.) So, you know, you walk in the door of the pizzeria, which is entirely empty of other customers, and all the staff members immediately move very far away from you. You feel like Covid 19 walking.
But at least I got out of the house. For about 9 minutes. And I ate something besides organic oranges, tomatoes, baby spinach, arugula, Greek yogurt, berries, granola, non-organic dark chocolate, and Neapolitan ice cream… (If you study that list, you’ll see that it’s reasonably healthy but fucking boring for 96 hours straight!)
Okay, well. Today is Booty Core and hair-washing, and sitting at the desk and writing something!! (And eating the stuff on that list that I’ve just regaled you with, but now add cold, leftover pizza…) It could be so much worse. I count my many blessings every day, gang. I’m guessing that you do, too.
Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a good Thursday, wherever it finds you in this big, beautiful world! We’ll say goodbye to Nick Cave and his fellow Bad Seeds for now but not forever! I love you guys. See ya.
“We’ll Meet Again”
We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through,
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know
Tell them I won’t be long
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song
We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where
Don’t know when.
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do,
‘Til the blue skies
Drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say “Hello”
To the folks that I know.
Tell them I won’t be long.
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin’ this song.
We’ll meet again,
Don’t know where,
Don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day
Just no way do you get to tell me what to fucking do! Yay!
That’s pretty much the attitude of most of the people who live in Ohio, which is of course why so many people (moi aussi) continued to congregate in groups way larger than 50 until the Governor had to step in and issue actual mandates that forced people (like me) to not only stay home but to not even be allowed to vote. Wow. Talk about getting your privileges suspended…
So when the number of confirmed cases of the virus basically doubled overnight in the State, it was not a surprise to me at all, not in any way whatsoever, so I have to wonder how come “officials” found this leap “startling”?
I love when the “people in charge” have no real clue what the “people they are in charge of” are doing.
(A good example of that, you know, was when Trump won the Presidency. A lot of people in Ohio voted for him. I know it won’t shake you to your very core to learn that I did not vote for Trump. But, still, he won. And in my opinion, he’s the President of the United States. Because people voted for him. I know for a fact that they did. And it’s why I’m so sick of the Democrats because they spent the past 4 years submerged in this infantile outcry, stamping their little feet, wasting everybody’s time & money, trying to remove him from his elected position, rather than spending all that time & money making America great again in ways that were more in keeping with their own beliefs about America.) (Which is why, in my opinion, America is a great country– you’re legally allowed to have whatever opinion you want and you’re allowed to publicly say whatever you want to about the President without fearing for your very life and liberty. And it’s odd how so many people who are not Democrats tend to see that fact really clearly and so they continue to vote in that direction.)
Anyway. No one has died from Covid 19 yet in the State of Ohio. But we are up to 67 confirmed cases. Way more than Kentucky and Indiana have, combined. So, on we go.
It will, alas, perhaps come as no surprise to you to learn that my table-read in NYC for Tell My Bones has ground to a thorough and complete halt. So much so, that the director of my play texted me last night to say he was flying back to Ohio first thing this morning to spend the Spring and Summer here in his mansion on the hill. He will be here until late August, just to get clear of NYC and the virus there. (Here in Muskingum County and also in the county where the director has his other home, there are so far no known cases of the virus.)
So the table-read in April is one less thing I have to do. And then that Literary Arts Fair in June that I backed out of because of planning to go to Zurich to make new friends and see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, means two less things that I have to do.
And of course I scan the Nick Cave web site daily for any indication whatsoever that he might be postponing the European start of the Ghosteen Tour, and so far he his hanging tough — the only one in the world who is, actually. But that might be a third thing I won’t be doing this Spring/Summer if he does end up postponing the tour.
And of course the meeting with the TV streaming platform for Abstract Absurdity Productions in LA has been postponed until after the international quarantine is lifted. So that’s another thing that I won’t be doing this Spring. Although, for now, the film shoots will still be happening in Los Angeles this summer.
Sandra called last night and we chatted for quite awhile. Yesterday, the production of “Chicago” that she’s been rehearsing up in Stratford, Canada got closed down and so she will be back in Rhinebeck by Monday. (So, now that her schedule will be indescribably free for the table-read of Tell My Bones, there isn’t going to be one until the Fall.)
The only thing that remains in place for me, career-wise, is that our other play is still slated for production in Canada at the end of this year. And this sudden freed-up schedule for both Sandra and me, means that we can tackle some of those massive re-writes for that other play. And we’re both feeling really excited about that. We’ll probably just do it on Skype; I’m not planning to go back to NYC now before the Fall. But I’m still feeling really excited about getting back to work with her on that play.
So, all those things that I was worrying about having to do all at once, have now basically entirely disappeared.
And now all I have in front of me yet again is time to sit at my desk and write.
I made some progress with my broken heart during the night. Turned a little corner. Release people to what they need in their own lives and just open up my strange little path and embrace whatever comes along on it.
I’m not able to stop loving someone once I love them, but I am able to find a different place for it inside and then keep going.
Listening to the Bee Gees of course while you have a broken heart is never a good idea. We all know this. It is a documented fact that it only makes your heart break more. And yet, I guess I’m an Ohio girl after all, because I’ve been listening to the Bee Gees “How Can You Mend A Broken Heart” pretty much non-stop for a few days. (That’s correct: No one in the universe is the boss of me. I will listen to the Bee Gees if I so choose!!!)
You know, I don’t ever want to be Albatross-y to anyone, least of all, to someone I love. So I have been trying really hard to keep myself contained (in a non-Covid 19 type of way, of course, because when it comes to the virus, I want to be sure to interact closely with everyone imaginable, until the Governor himself steps in and says, “No, no, no! Bad dog!! Bad, bad dog!! Now you have to stay in your little pen and you don’t get to vote!!”).
Anyway. I’m trying to sublimate whatever I’m feeling and turn it into something that can have it’s own beauty and go out into the world in other, more acceptable ways. It’s why I’m a writer, I guess.
And last night, lights out. Dark bedroom. Shattered little heart that I was trying once more to get a grip on. Suddenly, loud and plain as day, I hear singing — music. It was so familiar to me. But it was coming from somewhere inside me.
And I thought: What is that? I know that song.
And I suddenly realized it was the chorus from Tom Petty’s song, “You & Me.” Which happens to be the last song that Tom Petty actually listened to before he died. (According to his wife, Dana, who was there with him on the bed, watching the video on YouTube, and then later he had the heart attack and did not recover.)
But it’s also a song that I really love and that man who died a couple of summers ago used to indulge me and even while he also liked Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers a lot (he was older than me, but we were in the same generation, music-wise). Anyway, we played Tom Petty songs almost exclusively while he was here in this very room with me, making a whole lot of love (before he, too, died).
So “You & Me” is a powerhouse of potential heartbreak for me, but when I suddenly realized that it was the song coming through the ether to me last night, I grabbed my phone from the night table and streamed “You & Me” on repeat. And almost instantaneously, the energy, spirit, whatever you call it, of the now-dead guy that I loved was all over me. There was so much joy. It was like a tidal wave of it, all over me in that bed.
I knew he was with me. I could almost see him, you know? Almost. And he was just filled with joy and I couldn’t help but be swept up into it, too. And even though I don’t actually “hear” voices, I feel his voice pretty loudly inside me. I can hear/feel the words. They were undeniably him and he told me stuff that was just filled with love. So much love. And he also said, “You gotta leave that guy alone now, Marilyn. Remember the boundaries.”
He actually said that. And then I fell dead asleep — if you’ll excuse the weird pun. At one point, I remember that I turned off the music on my phone. But I slept 8 whole hours. I haven’t done that in a couple of weeks, really.
So I’m feeling better, you know? Love in the Time of Cholera and all that aside — I am feeling better. And so on we go, right, gang?
You know of course what I am leaving you with today! Enjoy it. Celebrate it. Rejoice, even. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!
“You And Me”
Take a look
At what I got
I can’t promise
You a lot
But you and me
And the road ahead
I can’t save
You from yourself
You gotta want it
All that’s left
Is you and me
And the road ahead
Wherever that wind might blow
Wherever that river rolls
You know I will go with you
Lookin’ over
The mountain’s crown
The water roars
And tumbles down
Like you and me
And the road ahead
Wherever that wind might blow
Wherever that river rolls
You know I will go with you
Happy 7th & 8th birthdays to my many beloved cats!
They’re happy here and festive today, even while they have nowhere to go and pandemic viruses to keep well clear of.
Still, they are partying hard, as usual!!
A reasonable facsimile. It is not actually sunny here today! And we don’t even live in that house anymore! Plus, I have 5 other cats who aren’t pictured here!!
Well, yesterday, I suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to focus on In the Shadow of Narcissa and maybe even finish writing it during this period of global house arrest caused by a virus.
And then suddenly, early this morning, I got word that the web site for AbstractAbsurdityProductions is finally ready for me to begin working on. Wouldn’t you know it?
I’m going to try to split my time between the two projects, though. We’ll see. I will meet with Peitor over the phone for several hours this afternoon. We are hoping to finish the “Lita” script, or get close to finishing it. We are on the final scene. (I know, even under house arrest, when I should be taking a sort of “enforced vacation,” I still have too much to do.)
I went to vote this morning, only to discover my polling place was closed. So there we have it. A true pandemic. I can’t even exercise my right to vote.
And today will likely go down as the quietest St. Paddy’s Day in the known history of the Christian world.
Sorry. This is sort of a weird, convoluted, short post. I keep getting interrupted here. And I’ve got way too much on my mind right now. Perhaps I will post an update later!
Meanwhile, thanks for stopping by for cake & ice cream!! I love you guys. See ya.
Well, the Governor of this lofty State, as of last evening, mandated that all gathering places such as bars and restaurants all over Ohio are to be closed down, as he attempts to force stubborn people to stay home.
This means that me and my beloved Granville Inn — my home away from home, 25 miles from here — must part company for a while.
(Yes, I confess — I was there Saturday night with tons of other people and no less than 6 flat screen TVs, with the sound off, giving moment-by-moment updates of the National Emergency and the world-wide pandemic.)(To be fair, though, I was super paranoid about not touching my face and I washed my hands a lot…)
So, anyway, now I’m home for the duration. And instead of sitting at my desk and working almost all of the time, I am now going to sit at my desk and work all the time.
After I got word of the Governor’s mandate last evening, I figured I’d better force myself to drive into the other town (19 miles away) to get the upcoming week’s groceries. Just get it over with and then force myself to stay at home. (Although tomorrow is voting day and I can’t imagine not voting…)
I was bracing myself for a catastrophe inside the market — I had heard already that all the big super market chains had empty shelves and were out of food. However, the little market I shop at — that has tons of organic produce, etc. — still had plenty of food. And none of the shoppers there appeared to be in the throes of hoarding stuff.
The store was only out of 2 things that I normally buy (and I thought it was interesting that they were out of these specific items in this pandemic of shopping mania): the specific dark chocolate I like — and so I was forced to buy a type of dark chocolate that comes from Austria, instead, and that actually tastes better than what I usually buy and is indescribably delicious (meaning, it contains more sugar and less cocoa), so I’m going to be forced to eat delicious chocolate this week. And they were out of the organic pomegranate juice that I buy. Instead, I had to buy organic pomegranate juice that is blended with organic tart cherry and red grape juices (which, of course, tastes better than the pure stuff — but I drink the pure stuff for post-menopausal hormonal reasons, not because I like it). But, clearly, a lot of suffering is underway here…
And then, on the way back into Crazeysburg, I stopped at the dollar store to buy more tea tree essential oil and 25 pounds of cat litter, both of which they had plenty of (I have tried to warn you that my life is just super glamorous, gang), and then I thought — in a sort of somewhat hoarding sort of vein — that maybe I should just buy another carton of Breyer’s all natural vanilla bean ice cream — you know, in case I need to ponder excessively during the crack down and run out of the 1 and a 1/2 cartons I already have in my freezer. And to my dismay, I discovered that apparently everyone in Crazeysburg shares my taste in ice cream because they were all out of only that flavor. (I bought Breyer’s Neapolitan as my back-up instead.)
But I found that just so funny, you know? In the midst of all this utterly insane stupefyingly crazy shopping stuff that’s going on all over America now, the only things I couldn’t obtain were organic Pomegranate juice, high-cocoa-content dark chocolate, and boring Breyer’s all natural vanilla bean ice cream.
This means that there are people out here in the Hinterlands who are exactly like me and yet I don’t know a single one of them!
Well, the update on the web work for Abstract Absurdity Productions got even more bizarre. I did hear back from one of the “Happiness Engineers” yesterday (far short of the 24-48 hour estimated time frame) and she took care of the problem that I was having at WordPress, and then I was able to go back over to GoDaddy and discover that the problem they had allegedly fixed for me there on Saturday was now even worse. So, an hour and a half on the phone with tech support took care of that problem (for real, this time). And I was able to go back to my “Happiness Engineer” at WordPress and finish up everything there.
And then she happily informed me that we were all good to go and that within 5 to 7 days, I could complete the site set up.
Oh my god. You know? In case you can’t do the math on that, that’s, like, an entire week. I mean, the whole world has shut down, so it’s not like there’s any rush or anything, but it just boggles my mind.
Plus, it’s embarrassing to have to keep giving Peitor these ridiculous updates every day because I know that he must be privately thinking that I don’t really know how to set up a web site and that it’s just my foolish pride that’s preventing me from admitting it.
Well, anyway. I have a full tank of gas in my car that only cost me $1.83 per gallon. And I have all my groceries, and all the cat food and cat litter we need around here, and plenty of ice cream to try to mend my broken heart with — and I have absolutely no place to go and no web work that I can do. So I’m guessing I’ll get a lot of my own writing done this week.
We can only hope. Although my phone informed me yesterday that I’m spending way too much time on Instagram now. I usually have about 3 hours of screen time on my phone each week, but yesterday, my phone informed me that last week, I had 19 hours of screen time!! Jesus Christ. That is just stupid. I gotta stop. It only leads to heartache anyway. (For instance, I used to love that song “Love Letter” by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds and now I never want to hear it again, ever, as long as I live, ever, and even beyond forever, because of something I scrolled my way on to on Instagram a few dawns ago. Stupid stuff like that.)
Okay. I guess I’ll get started here. Have a good Monday, wherever you are in this pandemic-filled world. Find something peaceful to contemplate. Find something to follow that leads you in the direction of joy. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with my little soundtrack to have your heart broken by, as we barrel ever-onward towards Spring. I love you guys. See ya!
This old smoke-filled bar is something I’m not used to
But I gave up my home to see you satisfied
And I just called to let you know where I’ll be living
It’s not much but I feel welcome here inside
And I’ve got swinging doors a jukebox and a bar stool
And my new home has a flashing neon sign
Stop by and see me anytime you want to
Cause I’m always here at home till closing time
I’ve got everything I need to drive me crazy
I’ve got everything it takes to lose my mind
And in here the atmosphere’s just right for heartaches
And thanks to you I’m always here till closing time
And I’ve got swinging doors a jukebox and a bar stool
And my new home has a flashing neon sign
Stop by and see me anytime you want to
Cause I’m always here at home till closing time
You’re going to think I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about when I say I’ve been building web sites for myself since 1997.
However, I have managed to come upon yet another annoying glitch with the set-up of the Abstract Absurdity Productions website (I guess I’m just hellbent on embodying the “Absurdity” aspect of this project), that the WordPress “Happiness Engineers” assure me they can address within the next 24-48 hours.
Honestly. I am so fucking serious.
I’m, like: you’re kidding me, right??!!
Jesus.
So here I sit, on a rather chilly but very sunny Sunday, with all this web work to do and I yet again cannot do any of it.
So, what I did instead was sat at my kitchen table and tried to come up with some enormous reserves of will power to not write to this person that I said I wouldn’t write to anymore.
And when I opened to the Table of Contents, I discovered many little asterisks next to many of the poems, and I suddenly recalled that when I was 17, I was writing a one-person play and that the dialogue consisted of nothing but poems by Langston Hughes.
Don’t you find that really interesting? I kind of do. I remember that I worked really hard on it but that, eventually, I felt like I was in over my head and I gave up.
And as I opened the book to each poem that had an asterisk — lo! these 43 years later — it was so interesting to see that all the words came back to me, like they were etched in my brain.
And it was also really interesting to see the poems I had selected for the play. Because even though, when I’d re-read them today on the page and felt I had them memorized somewhere deep inside me, at first, I hadn’t recalled any of these poems. For instance, this extremely interesting one for my 17-year-old white self:
Ruby Brown
She was young and beautiful
And golden like the sunshine
That warmed her body.
And because she was colored
Mayville had no place to offer her,
Nor fuel for the clean flame of joy
That tried to burn within her soul.
One day,
Sitting on old Mrs. Latham’s back porch
Polishing the silver,
She asked herself two questions
And they ran something like this:
What can a colored girl do
On the money from a white woman’s kitchen?
And ain’t there any joy in this town?
Now the streets down by the river
Know more about this pretty Ruby Brown,
And the sinister shuttered houses of the bottoms
Hold a yellow girl
Seeking an answer to her questions.
The good church folk do not mention
Her name any more.
But the white men,
Habitués of the high shuttered houses,
Pay more money to her now
Than they ever did before,
When she worked in their kitchens. (Langston Hughes)
Or how about this one:
To Artina
I will take your heart.
I will take your soul out of your body
As though I were God.
I will not be satisfied
With the touch of your hand
Nor the sweet of your lips alone.
I will take your heart for mine.
I will take your soul.
I will be God when it comes to you. (Langston Hughes)
I don’t know, I found that just really interesting. Apparently, when I was 17 I was already exactly how I am now — the things that matter to me, I mean. They still move me, they still matter.
And then I even recalled vividly that the opening to my play was this poem (and I still think it makes a great opening for a one-person play):
Harlem Night Song
Come,
Let us roam the night together
Singing.
I love you.
Across
The Harlem roof-tops
Moon is shining.
Night sky is blue.
Stars are great drops
Of golden dew.
Down the street
A band is playing.
I love you.
Come,
Let us roam the night together
Singing. (Langston Hughes)
Well, perhaps I’ll work on that play again sometime. I probably won’t be in over my head anymore. And I did indeed find the poem I was actually looking for — hard to believe it’s a poem retrieved from my wee bonny 17-year-old girlhood. I leave you with it, gang!
Beale Street
The dream is vague
And all confused
With dice and women
And jazz and booze.
The dream is vague
Without a name,
Yet warm and wavering
And sharp as flame.
The loss
Of the dream
Leaves nothing
The same. (Langston Hughes)
Okay, you know, I usually don’t like this blog to be about current events because you can get enough of that stuff all over the place. But I do have to say that, yesterday afternoon, I went to go drop off my water bill at what we lovingly call here “City Hall” (a tiny store front), and I headed past our local gas station and my mouth fell open. Literally.
And it was snowing like crazy, too, with very high blizzard-like winds but the snow wasn’t sticking, or anything — it was just so weird outside. (This was shortly after the strangely unanticipated funeral procession drove past my kitchen window — see yesterday’s quick post). Anyway, everything just felt so weird. And then I saw that the price of gas had plummeted!! It is currently $1.83 a gallon. It is so cheap that it’s bizarre.
What’s even weirder, is that I usually go further out of town, into the middle of nowhere, to buy my gas because it’s almost always cheapest there. But, suddenly, right smack in the middle of Crazeysburg was the cheapest gas I’ve seen in 30 years. For no discernible reason whatsoever.
And we have our one little dollar store here, and it has plenty of toilet paper, and also food. All kinds of processed, packaged, and frozen food. Not the kind of food I buy, though (except for ice cream, in the event I need to ponder something). Still, we have food. I mean, don’t come visit or anything, because we don’t want you to clean us out. My point is only that we have all this stuff that the big cities and the nearest towns are all out of, and now we also have the cheapest gas I’ve ever seen — I really do think I’m living in the Land that Time Forgot.
Well, onward.
Yesterday, in the mail, I received a poetry book that I had ordered recently and it arrived signed by the poet. It was the best inscription I’d ever read. For some reason, she knows I’m a writer, which took me aback a little, but her inscription was mostly about best wishes for “seeing beauty amidst disaster.”
That, to me, could not have summed up all of life, and specifically my own life, more perfectly.
I’m looking forward to reading the book — it’s an award-winning chapbook. I will write more about it after I read it. I get the feeling that the poems are extremely intense (they’re about disaster, actually). I’m gonna find out.
I am also going to get that darn web site working today if it kills me. It is just insane, how much trouble I’m having. And it’s just tiny bits of trouble here & there, which accumulate into just a really frustrating headache. So we shall see. But I guarantee you that I have been building websites since 1997 — and those include many award-winning websites!! — and yet nowadays, these “user-friendly” and “easy-to-use” website templates are counter-intuitive, rarely do what I need them to do and they make me lose my mind.
New topic.
I had a brief text exchange yesterday with my sister, just to start the process of dipping my toe in that water of needing my birth mom to be here for extended periods when I have to be in LA. (My mom lives with my sister.) And my sister assured me she would make it happen.
So, between the two of us…
My poor mother — her fate is now sealed and she doesn’t even know. But to be fair, she really does like staying here. She gets all that privacy and gets to do stuff out in the garden, with my many flowers (mostly meaning: pulling the weeds that I tend to ignore now because pulling weeds would require that I leave my desk).
Which reminds me. I went into the guest room to water the plants this morning, and just look at this poinsettia!
This poinsettia is almost 5 years old.
Beautiful, right? Plus, there was a ladybug on the window, too! (Although I’m kind of starting to believe that these are just ladybugs, you know? Maybe not signs of anything more than unexpected life. Which of course, is a good sign.)
However, I digress.
But my point was that it takes so much off my mind, knowing that even if I have to be away for extended periods, my mom will be here, taking care of my house and my many cats.
Well, I’m gonna scoot. I want to get back in bed and read poems for awhile. Then gear up to face that web site again. I hope you have a really nice Sunday, wherever you are in this pandemic-driven world. Just do what you think is best, okay? And keep in mind that we’re never really gonna get it (life) right, you know? So just let it evolve into whatever it needs to be — life, love, best-laid-plans, etc. One thing I know for sure about all this stuff is that everything we think we understand is probably way off course and that everything always comes back around for another shot or a closing statement. And then we personally define whether that’s good or not so good. And then on we go. Right? All righty. I love you guys. See ya. And remember… (really nice version of this song if you’re willing to still listen to Michael Jackson.)
I was sitting at my kitchen table, reading a very short story by Ben Nickol, titled “Opening Night”.
It was very good but very sad. About a little girl who”s in a school play and then gets killed on the way home and then how the family dynamic changes immediately and forever.
Really well written but just so sad.
I tossed the book onto the table, got up and went over and leaned on the kitchen counter, looked out the kitchen window in order to think, to process, and a funeral procession was driving by.
Sort of unnerving, really. Talk about the immediacy of life. Or death. God, life is so strange.
Okay, well, the web work today made me crazy yet again because I could not unlock the domain from GoDaddy as hard as I tried. Finally called support and got someone who appeared to be trying to help about 5 customers at once — I’m not kidding. And it turned out that the problem was they had somehow connected an email to that domain that I have not had in over 10 years…..
Fuck. It only took half an hour to figure that problem out. So then they finally fixed everything and assured me it would be good to go in a few more hours!!!!!!!
So. I gave up. For now. Hope you’re having a more productive day wherever you are in the world! See ya, gang.
Okay. I am going to show you the (allegedly) FINAL version of our logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. (And I love it!)
And to be honest, gang, I am absolutely overwhelmed by the responses we are getting to the company overall — not just our logo, but I mean our Mission, our raison d’etre, our inspiration (primarily European New Wave cinema from the 1950s & 1960s) , the storylines of our imminent micro-shorts (completely absurd plots). All of it.
And not only do we have that great cinematographer as part of our company profile now, but yesterday we got a social media expert onboard, as well, who loves our European sensibilities and wants us to get our package together immediately in order to pitch it to an additional very high profile TV streaming platform. (We are already well connected to one other one.)
So it is extremely exciting, gang. But overwhelming, too. In a way, you know. As in: I might have to live in Los Angeles a lot of the time. I was absolutely not anticipating that.
And since the theater projects are in NYC and Canada, what does that mean?
It means that I’m sort of curiously running the potential conversation through my brain as to how I am going to convince my birth mom to live here in Crazeysburg for pretty much the rest of her life…
I didn’t sleep well at all last night. Well, I slept well, during the meager hours that I actually slept. I was awake a lot of the night. I made a decision about something on Thursday that I am determined to stick to because I know it’s the right thing. But it’s like being on one path — a path you really, really love being on. And then being re-directed by the entire Universe, basically, to suddenly go down another path. A path I can’t even really see yet, so I’m just walking it blind now, but knowing that it’s the right thing.
I don’t want to have a broken heart about all this because I know that’s not a thing that anyone wants for me in this situation. So I’m trying to just move forward.
So I laid there in the dark, the birds were already starting to sing outside my window somewhere. And I decided to stream Tom Petty’s song “No Reason to Cry,” from the amazing Heartbreakers 2010 album , Mojo.
And I’ll tell you what — I’m willing to bet money on the fact that Tom Petty knew for sure that girls would cry when they listened to that fucking song. Tom Petty-type girls, anyway. And I did fucking cry. Because I’m overwhelmed right now. And the room was dark. And the sound quality on my iPhone is really, really good. Tom Petty’s voice filled my room like some sort of crystal bell ringing, right? So I cried a little bit.
But I also know that Tom Petty mostly wanted people to just live. Live life, fight for what you believe in, do the right thing. Stuff like that — don’t just lay in the dark and cry. So I switched to the song “Let Yourself Go,” also on Mojo. But it’s a song that I feel better represents who I really am. So I was able to move out of the tears and think more clearly.
And right then, I came to the decision (I’ve been debating it for a week now) to cancel the audition tomorrow for the literary arts festival that’s taking place in early June. It’s just too close to the trip to Zurich — assuming the trip even happens with this insane coronavirus craziness going on.
I was telling my new friend in Switzerland, regarding that literary festival, that aside from it being only a ten-minute reading, it’s a heavily edited version of a chapter from Blessed By Light that I really, really love. I am not emotionally attached to the piece at all now because I had to change my protagonist’s voice pretty extremely to get him to not only be family-friendly, but also to fit in the really short time-allotment.
So I emailed the festival people right then, before the sun was even up. And now, the Zurich thing can happen, as long as Los Angeles doesn’t become some sort of huge looming specter in early June, too… that hinges on when the cinematographer can be in LA.
Well. I forgot to mention that the coronavirus has delayed the opening of Nick Cave’s art exhibit in Copenhagen.
The announcement went out on Instagram yesterday morning. I’m guessing the book will still come out on schedule, though. So I’m making sure to keep 17 million US dollars freed up in my checking account, because I pre-ordered the book (in British Pounds Sterling) and I wouldn’t want to come up short on the day they decide to deduct the charge (for the book plus the expensive overseasshipping) from my account.
(Oddly enough, spell check doesn’t like that word “pre-ordered” and it offered me the word “pee-ordered” instead. I’m not real sure what the heck that would mean or why it would ever make sense to use it. I mean, like, what the hell would be going on when you’d need to say “pee-ordered” and it would actually make sense? Anyway.)
Well, I don’t have to do Booty Core or yoga today. And even though I have a ton of work to do on the new web site, I’m waiting for stuff from Peitor to arrive in my inbox. So until that occurs, I think I’m going to go back to bed and stare out the window for a little while. Drink some coffee. Wonder about life.
So I’m gonna scoot. Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a real good Saturday, wherever you are in the world. I’ll leave you to choose your own preference today: to cry or not to cry. Or maybe a little of both. It’s up to you — I trust your judgment completely. All righty. I love you guys. See ya.
“Let Yourself Go”
Rain on the river I’m soakin’ wet
Waitin’ on friend who ain’t come yet
And he might not get here for three or four days
Got to make a little bit go a long way
I’ve got a blond-headed woman who likes to come around
Cute little hippy girl lives in town
Brings a bag of records and she plays ’em ’til dawn
Give me a little lovin’ then she got to go home
When times are hard
When you start feelin’ low
Let yourself go
When the river’s risin’ and the world feels cold
Let yourself go
Let yourself go
I got a 442 sittin’ in the sun
Well it’s been ten years since she used to run
Man she was a beauty in ’69
But there ain’t no more comin’ down the line
When times are hard
And you start feelin’ low
Let yourself go
When the river’s risin’ and your world feels cold
Let yourself go
Honey let yourself go
That Fluffy, my wonderful, goofy, intensely loving little stray cat, was alive again. And frisky and fluffy as anything you ever saw. She was scampering all over my living room. (That’s her, pictured above.)
She had been in a nursing home (of all things) because she was ill and dying (in real life, she died at home in my bed, from cancer, back in September 2016, and then, sadly, Bunny had a heart attack and died only a month later).
In the dream, I went to get Fluffy from the nursing home and she was no longer sick. In fact, she was getting ready to have kittens!
(In real life, when she first decided to come live with Mikey Rivera and me, she was still very young, starving, ill with pneumonia, infested with fleas, and pregnant with kittens. We took her in and took her to a vet, who assured me that Fluffy wouldn’t survive. I decided otherwise. I had the kittens aborted and kept her in quarantine for a very long time. And she lived to be 10 years old.)
This time, in my dream, Fluffy was obviously so healthy and full of life that I knew she and the kittens would live and I was so excited that, soon, I would have kittens scampering all over the house again. And I knew I was going to keep every one of them.
So. Well. I’m having a bit of a broken heart here this morning, I’m not going to go into why. But I felt that the dream was encouraging. I don’t really know how to interpret it, but it just made me feel hopeful. About the power of life, I guess.
Well, at this point maybe it won’t surprise you (it sort of surprised me, though, I have to say), that Peitor continued all day yesterday to tinker with that new logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. He did some amazing work on it. But each time I thought that it was great, he tinkered some more and it was even more amazing.
However, he sent me so many versions of the logo in texts yesterday, that now I can no longer tell which one I like better or why. We are working on the phone today, so I’m guessing we’ll be going over that and choosing one. (I hope.)
I woke up this morning and suddenly recalled how meticulous he is — a true perfectionist. And I suddenly had a vision of perhaps being in a film editing studio with him, editing one of our future 45-second movies, and perhaps tearing my hair out…
ME (to him): “I thought that was real good.”
HIM (to the film editor): “Obviously I still need to study this. Let me see that one frame again.”
ME (thinking): oh no…
Then:
ME, CONT’D (17 million hours later): “Oh my god, Peitor — that’s fantastic.”
HIM: “I know.”
BOTH OF US (accepting our Academy Award for Best Short Subject Film of the Year):
ME (wondering where Nick Cave is and what color suit he’s wearing): Silently staring at audience.
HIM (holding the actual Oscar): “…each element and perspective, and placement for not only aesthetic but also thesis…”
All righty!! Of course, I am 100% not kidding!!
However, let me tell you a couple of things. Quite a few music Divas from the 1970s saw their careers land back to the top of the Billboard Dance charts 30-40 years later, after hiring Peitor to write songs and produce for them.
And I remember, vividly, a time I was staying with him in LA — when he had this really lovely garden townhouse on N. Fairfax off of Sunset Blvd. I was in LA promoting Neptune & Surf because it had just come out (this is over 20 years ago). And I was up in the guest room, just killing time because Peitor was under a really tight deadline to compose a 60-second piece of music for some sort of Simpson’s movie. (Yes, the animated Simpsons.) He was at that piece for hours. And I could hear him at his keyboard the entire time. And he was going over & over & over one certain refrain. And I mean, for hours he was doing this — one section from a 60-second piece of music.
And then finally a messenger came to pick up the tape. And finally Peitor and I went out to dinner. And when we came home, another messenger had come by to slip an envelope under Peitor’s door and in it was a check for $36,000. For that 60-second piece of music.
‘Nuff said. So. If he wants to tweak that logo 17 million times, I say, “let him!!”
Okay!!
Nick Cave sent out a really beautiful Red Hand Files letter thing this morning. Pertaining to the Bible, and to Mary Magdalene, specifically. It meant a lot to me, what he said. You can read it at that link there if you so choose!!
I need to scoot because I have stuff to get to before Peitor calls. I hope you enjoy your Friday, wherever you are in the world. And just remember that love is beautiful, no matter what, so just be brave, okay? I leave you with two things today. A song from the 2013 album, Push the Sky Away, by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (The cool lyrics-in-progress are in the video). And then also my breakfast-listening music from this morning: the titular song, “Graceland,” from Paul Simon’s 1986 Grammy winning album-of-the-year, Graceland.
I love you guys. See ya.
“Graceland”
The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war
I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland
My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland
She comes back to tell me she’s gone
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed
As if I’d never noticed
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead
And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow
I’m going to Graceland
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland
And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland
There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland
And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow
In Graceland, in Graceland
I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland
Marilyn's Room 