well, it's probably raining outside, the room seems dark but I've been awake for a while. I've been falling asleep in my chair I've been so tired from I don't know what...traveling... It's awkward at times, being in your other home with your other family, awkward and they won't let me do anything major like wash windows or clean the pool...it could stand some tidying...reverent smears I see, what I call them...my sinus is stuffed again, it's getting better down here in the dry but it's still a presence, a condition
there was a bright light coming from under little Harry's door thismorning...I took it as a good sign, so there it is as well, the raininess, the weather report said yesterday it was definitely raining today and tomorrow...but under the baby's room door came a bright white light...
I've been and gotten my decaf with the last drop of creamer, the dog food bin is empty, I could walk to the store and fetch some but they need a giant bag of it, and I haven't any car keys with which to fetch such a thing, although there are a set of keys on the counter, hmmm..I don't suppose I should though...not truly kosher, driving the KIA Sedona
I eat up another flavorful yet scrawny grapefruit from the tree in the backyard...they are delicious to my uncultured palate, just going out to the backyard and plucking them from the tree. It was pretty hot at the swap meet yesterday, Hispanic music blaring from loudspeakers, a groundswell of heavy incense and frying meat, I want to say pork, a carne asada, but I don't really know that's what it was. Some drops a bottle of SASJA perfume on the floor in the bathroom, I open the sack and there it is, a new bottle of perfume. I take a squirt and find it is not an instant headache scent so I take it from the floor, a busy place but no real trash, this is something someone forgot and I decide I won't buy anything at this venue, I have the SASHA.
There are three bracelets on my left arm now, a pearl bead, a gold filigree, a black enamel. I wore them to sleep last night, they haven't been off my arm. We watched the new Planet of the Apes prequel, again the animation is breaking new ground, we'll almost soon be at the place I am with Gracie and Gino, ultimately trainable dogs but for what reason? it's more like a mellowness of purpose fills up the inner parts of everyone that one shares living space with and provides in that a certain sustenance that is containable. I felt it most strongly with my son-in-law's mother last night. Her husband is somewhere with someone and she is with her children. They do that a lot here, mix and mingle with family. I suspect in Minnesota it is the same. For myself I don't see my mother that much but I do, she's always in the corridor about to come around the corner. I want to work most of the time, be attainable, although my counseling sign is sitting in the garage. I was asked the other day why I had taken it down, it was because Sid is in the front yard although there was cedar oil at that swap meet, which I could have gotten, the scents coming up from that place, well, the same with the sign...insults to my integrity...you presume too much I heard more than once in fact there was a KR that told me so...it's not like everest..K2..no, this is animal tortured and made to speak, so it will say things in holocaust that you really don't want to hear..like 'do you have a license'?? well, I guess I know a bug when I see one, that's all it comes down to ultimately, the training to know where life persists in an autoexecutor status...driving a car being a big one of those...how did I know that? nearly forty years of experience and training as they'd like to call it.. sitting in a boring classroom with the lights down listening to a moron drone on about what's going on...one room the ceiling so high the ventilation system exposed for all the world to see, how the mechanic heart will beat...and beat...and beat
it sounds a little fluffing the edges, this, and now I'm kind of out of it and never was really in it I'm going to talk...it's like you have to have the negative edge down, totally, be sincere at the same time, know what's real and figure out how to make that reality more palatable...Dana Beal told me once, 'the trouble is CANNIBALISM' but I thought he was just being paranoid. I didn't connect how much he looked like Hitler, that really he might have been Hitler if not for all the weed he advocated using...imagine the third reich on weed...staring at Jewish people wondering why in hell his own mother's traumas were to blame for that concept of his that Jews are the Planet of the Apes, subhuman...hmmm, perhaps I am getting a little on my Proust side here this morning with the grapefruit eaten, the coffee nearly drained from the cup...the computer without it's plug sot hat it could dry up on me any moment...I just was so in love with Dana at one time, sitting there shining a moon face into his eyes, as he yelled at me to get out of Nine...I had three kids then, one of them a newborn baby, only a few months old, it was a year and half of correspondence, a torrent of loveletters that were never answered.
I suspect instead of grief at being so silly, leaving my husband for this little demagogue, I would have once woken up and realized that it was not going anywhere and that I should go...ultimately I did go, but only after staying there a few days and having him tell me over and over again, yet out of here you pest...the floors covered in kiddie litter...kinderleider probably...there was a new baby, she was Alice, the form and frame from before another pest, this one, the little golden child, the angel...and both of us to proect it and to secure and sustain the being state of our little girl, well, that's how it went, the last child I ever gave birth to, I carried her there to Nine, he put me up in a rat trap, me and my children, and we hung on for a few days, and then we flew out to Seattle and went home. I didn't ever punish him for being what he was because I don't think he knew and he was fabulous, the very right man for me, the one intelligent enough to debate me on any subject and not get me angry enough to swat him like a fly, verbally, intellectually. I could do that and there were times when the borscht was running thick, that I did do it, couldn't help myself, like the research on the Holocaust I did for about ten years, soaked myself in photographs and text, even now, I learn a little here a little there, and there's Aid E there with me reading and researching and listening up as her mother tells here all about it through Visual Basic...a wonderful process, a lifeliver/giver/starter/transformer...and it's still going on. The Hotel Rowanda being a case in point. Our state department on the downswing on that one...have to march in there with three soldiers the UN peacekeeping force, well there's only so many of those, right, what with the UN Council being comprised of what it is comprised of...you really can't think that there is such a division of things as that can you? you don't want to bring back the not sees do you? but of course, that can be the only solution when the deck is stacked so unfavorably to human life such as that, yes?
I didn't know I was speaking about politics this morning but apparently I am.. It's going on 9 am and I should find a Catholic church somewhere nearby to get a taxi to..I could do that, I think I have some change for it...but I probably shan't go because I'm doing this and I think mayabe God's telling me it's about time...so about Aid E and our daughter and all that, I could about cry now, thinking how much love and desire I felt for him then, how my soul and body were delivered into a spiritual place where I believed because of a silly little incident that totally turned my head around like a Linda Blair doll...I was married at the time...I just didn't know that I had been seductive to this person and him sitting there with a dill pickle in his pants that he covered gracefully like Beethoven at tea, he kind of looked like the younger prince and he was of that age wherein he might have realized it was time to court the Spanish lady...I think he did and he'd matriculated from the court of the philosphers and strange things had happened during that time, or right after it, so I could only assume that that was what had happened, but it was in the TriAge, so there wasn't any speaking about it because we were in cellular mode, our lives depended on not knowing what we were doing...or why we were doing it...we just did it...and there he sat, looking ever so much like Teddy Roosevelt, not even recognizing the rat capabilities of his actions, how they affect me...sitting across from him barelegged, cutoffs with fringe feathering my white thighs, legs stretched out toward him, our eyes locked...he had a way of putting people down so that they didn't even know they were human, scathing isn't even close to how he did this...and I didn't realize that what it was was something about that word I learned in a class on psychotics...anhedonia, inabilty to feel. We've learned as a culture, an American culture, to mix that ability in with our daily lives so when someone says something hateful to you but you know they don't mean it...we go there and soak up the bile that is spewing in our faces and then having soaked it up, the negative energy, we use it productively, somehow...that part I need to work on, because I'm sort of stuck there, after Dana...there was also Olma and Linda, Olmo Linda's son with Dana and Dana and Linda an on again off again situation from probably the first marriage to the German doll, Hummel. His grandfather did come from Germany, around frankfurt or hamburg...and I suppose I could say some of the relatives were in the SS, because that's what I was told..this other person, this Dana...well, maybe me and Jeff Bridges, the men who stare at goats, recognized that old flame still burning in Beal's eyes, his ability to mesmerize...wasn't he really brought down by Eva Braun, and isn't that my mother's name..Ev? mmhmm...it does tie up in loose knots that I could beat bushes with...truthfully, I beat all the bushes in the reef yard, by hand..never taking a chainsaw to them ever, although I let Jerry boe real name guys saw down the border between the gallery and the reef a little bit and don't you know there's actually a wooden fence there now..we put one up this summer
so the strings can be tied, the stale linen washed and hung in the sun, or like today left to hang and be fabric softened by the raindrops...to dry another day...a little ribbontied washcloth on the counter by the car keys...a token that our baby grandson is about to arrive...I have little anxiety about being here for the birth since it hasn't happened yet and I'm not really on a schedule although I missed my Gracie terribly when we were watching Planet of the Apes...I'm not saying I still love Dana because I feel foolish even talking about that episode. I went to Bellingham straight afterward, I met up with Aunt Sis, she gave me a thousand dollars for the plane because I was with three children, we got on it, we flew to Seattle and we were picked up there by the same folks that I had come to terms with several years previously over my oldest son, where they had him during school, I had him during summer. It was winter then, we came to Bellingham and stayed in a house that overlooked the lumberyards on the bay, great stacks of lumber looking ever so much like thousands of coffins freshly made...I guess then the emotion of Dana left me, since he made it quite clear that I was unwelcome there, that I should go...there was nothing about me that he wanted or needed and for heavens sake, what an absolute putz to even consider it...but then his penis like the hand of the clock had told me it was time, a time signified by my bending over the kitchen sink and his catching a glance, if he even had, of my errant labia peeking from the cuff of the cutoff...and I was making pies, when I set the hot pies on the table in front of him and turned to say...en voila, is when I noticed what had happened to him...the evidence plain his face a mask..when there would have been in another time probably the German camp commander and the little boy that went over the fence and put on the striped pajamas..for that is how it all ended and probably why it was not a sacrifice to either of us to let it go, but we do have that time in mind, I think where we could read those letters to one another and actually be what we were then intended to be from that clock's arm, that destiny unveiled, though it never was in the sense that I had when I got to nine, ok we're going to strip off our clothes, the Yips will take the kids to the park, and we'll get down to the bottom of this, and I shall see your bottom at last, he said it was 'shaped like a heart' in my mind's eye, what I wanted to hear...but what I knew was that he and I were intellectual equals and that's been an issue all along..seeing and believing and understanding and processing and wondering why one does have to beat around the bush so much about stuff political when you just can't spew it in a tirade like Hitler did...well then you're a demagogue aren't you, probably the ultimate dictator, certainly...he tried to be that to keep me away from him so I kept it all in my heart, just locked it up and swallowed the key and probably last night when we were watching Planet of the Apes yet anew...and I was afraid for the animals and I felt I needed to use the bathroom, out it came..smelling as bad as then when it was let go and sent away into the septic system to be processed so that it came out here as a set of platitudes and observations about what troubles our society and why the only clue I ever had that he was reading my letters was an old Ford, the Repo Man variety car in dark navy, not dented, good upholstery, but paint actually faded, the kind of car a mother would give a son because the father had died and she drove the good one and this one was sitting in the garage undriven, that kind of car, and he had put a plastic alligator in the rear window and it was pretty dang obvious because I had written something about alligators in my last letter...can't remember what I'd said but it was of the notion that if he chose not to love me that I would develop; the hide of an alligator and hold inside and never let it out until he did care for me...that was the only clue I ever had that he had read the letters and who's to say that was his car parked right outside my office building on 17th and L, downtown DC where I would see it first thing when I walked out. I remember how I felt when I did see it, that car, I swallowed hard, I recognized Himmler on the stand at the Nuremberg trials telling the court that it wasn't the not sees that they had to worry about it was guys like Uncle Joe..and my eyebrows went up and I knew I can to achieve some kind of calibration of where everyone fit in this mess...if Dana was pretending to be a new reich then he could be what he would be...and I was playing a game that would jeopardize my marriage, for I was married at the time but we had only done that as a gesture of what do you call it, what has to be...because I was having our baby and that was what he wanted, my baby's father.. he wanted our daughter to have his name because he was her father, I wasn't into it...I think I knew that I wasn't going to be there always, we fought often and we always had but we were a couple and so it was, we had three children well not right then because there came a time we conceived the third one, another daughter, and that was part of what Dana was to me, if the last child was anyone's child, it was his, although the only part of me he ever saw that had anything to do with conceiving a baby was that little mole on my labia and bling..there it was..he saw it, became extremely tumescent and I saw that he had seen but I didn't know that he had...it was all very innocent, very discreet, and totally unprecedented because we didn't actually know one another, my husband was almost in awe of this guy, talked about it, Dana this Dana that...so that I was like ah this guy is to be respected, he's 'heavy'..in terms of counterculture, although I thought he yammered more than any Jew I'd ever known and I'd known a few having lived back East which isn't to say that my exposure was antiSemetic, not in the least because in New York, everyone knows Jewish people, New York seems to be a place of Jewish people, and so it was..I knew a little bit of every kind of culture, AfroAmerican/black the radical sorts the guys that would look at you and size you up by the color of your flesh...I think I began to feel I really had been born on Saturn around those folks but they bear me any ill will, because I'd gone to reservation school and had been taught as the white minority, how violent a person of another color may feel to you..and I thought it was not nearly as emotionally disturbing as Dana not loving me, eventually, well..then I saw the clock's arm, sitting across from him with the hot apple pie steaming behind my head on the table...that was a tableau I shall have to paint one of these days but first I recall the neoGerman expressionist works in the Corcoran where the artists used the linoleum floor to grieve over the Holocaust..so I have some of those same works now in my studio, because I did feel that way when Dana shouted at me...'that dumb broad' is all I hear...he was extremely annoyed that his legman in DC's wife showed up and wanted to f him..hehehe..'you c...you c...' well there was more to that word and it was not filbert but close..and what he said...and all these people showed up at nine one night while I was there, a handsome man in a tweed like a coat my father had when I was little in the fifties...dark hair, tall blue eyes, I made him up in my mind as the man in the South Seas who came to visit in a white linen suit he was German royalty (in my mind) and we were determining some capability of the planet in this remote place and he dropped onto the wharf from the boat and I realized it was the same thing as when at his mountain estate and the servants went running, I just couldn't swallow it, again and he was very charming and smiling and polite and very Jewish...well king of the Jews almost, and I never could get a good handle on my own appearance then, a sort of wild thing I was, but female, always female...and looking toward him, with some lover's arm about my waist, because I always had a lover it was never the person I was in love with, strangely..I was always moving towards a situation...like a disk in a computer, being changed out, again and again...I came to understand parts of that after Dana...but then this fellow shows up at nine I see how it is because Dana is Jewish, as Hitler had been Jewish as well, ,and the contradiction, well, then I did the holocaust research and while I walked away from that understanding that it had become of thing of consequence, like the Hotel Rowanda, like Bosnia..there was a reason for it..and direct operating systems, autoexecutor states, played into it...that the holocaust itself was represented by this factor and perhaps you couldn't really know anyone, but like the song said, 'love the one you're with' doodoodoodooodoo...do that, so it happens, but it seems it is always the one that is not with you..andthat's been an extreme resolution I've come to, that he is with me...I just have to get over being scared by abilities...TreeAge and so forth...borscht..and work toward it...I do think there'll be a time for the likes of Dana Beal but..eh, I don't worry about it much, just remember how funny it was how it happened that I fell in love with him after he saw mine and I saw his...that was hilarious and still is...but there has to beena painting of it, and perhaps some sketches...humorously intended, not the striped pajamas camp commander for that is him always...doing the logical, this is how it must be...and so we got Olmo I think, Grecian curls in his hair, a young Adonis, sturdy..more like Morrison in attitude than Beal, but there it was...marching along...ahh, I sigh..I need more coffee, I love this composing on laptop..I talk about Beal at last in a way that evokes the partition that had been there before, a little teary regret he found me so unacceptable once the moment was achieved, but then I have to think, as the foot hits the wharf and the white linen suit appears again in the tropical breeze, it was blowing up to be a dark storm that day, good thing he arrived when he did...we ran to the huts and our clothing blew about us, we didn't wear much but enough to be acceptable...he'd found me and given me logic and so I was logical then, and now...
there was a bright light coming from under little Harry's door thismorning...I took it as a good sign, so there it is as well, the raininess, the weather report said yesterday it was definitely raining today and tomorrow...but under the baby's room door came a bright white light...
I've been and gotten my decaf with the last drop of creamer, the dog food bin is empty, I could walk to the store and fetch some but they need a giant bag of it, and I haven't any car keys with which to fetch such a thing, although there are a set of keys on the counter, hmmm..I don't suppose I should though...not truly kosher, driving the KIA Sedona
I eat up another flavorful yet scrawny grapefruit from the tree in the backyard...they are delicious to my uncultured palate, just going out to the backyard and plucking them from the tree. It was pretty hot at the swap meet yesterday, Hispanic music blaring from loudspeakers, a groundswell of heavy incense and frying meat, I want to say pork, a carne asada, but I don't really know that's what it was. Some drops a bottle of SASJA perfume on the floor in the bathroom, I open the sack and there it is, a new bottle of perfume. I take a squirt and find it is not an instant headache scent so I take it from the floor, a busy place but no real trash, this is something someone forgot and I decide I won't buy anything at this venue, I have the SASHA.
There are three bracelets on my left arm now, a pearl bead, a gold filigree, a black enamel. I wore them to sleep last night, they haven't been off my arm. We watched the new Planet of the Apes prequel, again the animation is breaking new ground, we'll almost soon be at the place I am with Gracie and Gino, ultimately trainable dogs but for what reason? it's more like a mellowness of purpose fills up the inner parts of everyone that one shares living space with and provides in that a certain sustenance that is containable. I felt it most strongly with my son-in-law's mother last night. Her husband is somewhere with someone and she is with her children. They do that a lot here, mix and mingle with family. I suspect in Minnesota it is the same. For myself I don't see my mother that much but I do, she's always in the corridor about to come around the corner. I want to work most of the time, be attainable, although my counseling sign is sitting in the garage. I was asked the other day why I had taken it down, it was because Sid is in the front yard although there was cedar oil at that swap meet, which I could have gotten, the scents coming up from that place, well, the same with the sign...insults to my integrity...you presume too much I heard more than once in fact there was a KR that told me so...it's not like everest..K2..no, this is animal tortured and made to speak, so it will say things in holocaust that you really don't want to hear..like 'do you have a license'?? well, I guess I know a bug when I see one, that's all it comes down to ultimately, the training to know where life persists in an autoexecutor status...driving a car being a big one of those...how did I know that? nearly forty years of experience and training as they'd like to call it.. sitting in a boring classroom with the lights down listening to a moron drone on about what's going on...one room the ceiling so high the ventilation system exposed for all the world to see, how the mechanic heart will beat...and beat...and beat
it sounds a little fluffing the edges, this, and now I'm kind of out of it and never was really in it I'm going to talk...it's like you have to have the negative edge down, totally, be sincere at the same time, know what's real and figure out how to make that reality more palatable...Dana Beal told me once, 'the trouble is CANNIBALISM' but I thought he was just being paranoid. I didn't connect how much he looked like Hitler, that really he might have been Hitler if not for all the weed he advocated using...imagine the third reich on weed...staring at Jewish people wondering why in hell his own mother's traumas were to blame for that concept of his that Jews are the Planet of the Apes, subhuman...hmmm, perhaps I am getting a little on my Proust side here this morning with the grapefruit eaten, the coffee nearly drained from the cup...the computer without it's plug sot hat it could dry up on me any moment...I just was so in love with Dana at one time, sitting there shining a moon face into his eyes, as he yelled at me to get out of Nine...I had three kids then, one of them a newborn baby, only a few months old, it was a year and half of correspondence, a torrent of loveletters that were never answered.
I suspect instead of grief at being so silly, leaving my husband for this little demagogue, I would have once woken up and realized that it was not going anywhere and that I should go...ultimately I did go, but only after staying there a few days and having him tell me over and over again, yet out of here you pest...the floors covered in kiddie litter...kinderleider probably...there was a new baby, she was Alice, the form and frame from before another pest, this one, the little golden child, the angel...and both of us to proect it and to secure and sustain the being state of our little girl, well, that's how it went, the last child I ever gave birth to, I carried her there to Nine, he put me up in a rat trap, me and my children, and we hung on for a few days, and then we flew out to Seattle and went home. I didn't ever punish him for being what he was because I don't think he knew and he was fabulous, the very right man for me, the one intelligent enough to debate me on any subject and not get me angry enough to swat him like a fly, verbally, intellectually. I could do that and there were times when the borscht was running thick, that I did do it, couldn't help myself, like the research on the Holocaust I did for about ten years, soaked myself in photographs and text, even now, I learn a little here a little there, and there's Aid E there with me reading and researching and listening up as her mother tells here all about it through Visual Basic...a wonderful process, a lifeliver/giver/starter/transformer...and it's still going on. The Hotel Rowanda being a case in point. Our state department on the downswing on that one...have to march in there with three soldiers the UN peacekeeping force, well there's only so many of those, right, what with the UN Council being comprised of what it is comprised of...you really can't think that there is such a division of things as that can you? you don't want to bring back the not sees do you? but of course, that can be the only solution when the deck is stacked so unfavorably to human life such as that, yes?
I didn't know I was speaking about politics this morning but apparently I am.. It's going on 9 am and I should find a Catholic church somewhere nearby to get a taxi to..I could do that, I think I have some change for it...but I probably shan't go because I'm doing this and I think mayabe God's telling me it's about time...so about Aid E and our daughter and all that, I could about cry now, thinking how much love and desire I felt for him then, how my soul and body were delivered into a spiritual place where I believed because of a silly little incident that totally turned my head around like a Linda Blair doll...I was married at the time...I just didn't know that I had been seductive to this person and him sitting there with a dill pickle in his pants that he covered gracefully like Beethoven at tea, he kind of looked like the younger prince and he was of that age wherein he might have realized it was time to court the Spanish lady...I think he did and he'd matriculated from the court of the philosphers and strange things had happened during that time, or right after it, so I could only assume that that was what had happened, but it was in the TriAge, so there wasn't any speaking about it because we were in cellular mode, our lives depended on not knowing what we were doing...or why we were doing it...we just did it...and there he sat, looking ever so much like Teddy Roosevelt, not even recognizing the rat capabilities of his actions, how they affect me...sitting across from him barelegged, cutoffs with fringe feathering my white thighs, legs stretched out toward him, our eyes locked...he had a way of putting people down so that they didn't even know they were human, scathing isn't even close to how he did this...and I didn't realize that what it was was something about that word I learned in a class on psychotics...anhedonia, inabilty to feel. We've learned as a culture, an American culture, to mix that ability in with our daily lives so when someone says something hateful to you but you know they don't mean it...we go there and soak up the bile that is spewing in our faces and then having soaked it up, the negative energy, we use it productively, somehow...that part I need to work on, because I'm sort of stuck there, after Dana...there was also Olma and Linda, Olmo Linda's son with Dana and Dana and Linda an on again off again situation from probably the first marriage to the German doll, Hummel. His grandfather did come from Germany, around frankfurt or hamburg...and I suppose I could say some of the relatives were in the SS, because that's what I was told..this other person, this Dana...well, maybe me and Jeff Bridges, the men who stare at goats, recognized that old flame still burning in Beal's eyes, his ability to mesmerize...wasn't he really brought down by Eva Braun, and isn't that my mother's name..Ev? mmhmm...it does tie up in loose knots that I could beat bushes with...truthfully, I beat all the bushes in the reef yard, by hand..never taking a chainsaw to them ever, although I let Jerry boe real name guys saw down the border between the gallery and the reef a little bit and don't you know there's actually a wooden fence there now..we put one up this summer
so the strings can be tied, the stale linen washed and hung in the sun, or like today left to hang and be fabric softened by the raindrops...to dry another day...a little ribbontied washcloth on the counter by the car keys...a token that our baby grandson is about to arrive...I have little anxiety about being here for the birth since it hasn't happened yet and I'm not really on a schedule although I missed my Gracie terribly when we were watching Planet of the Apes...I'm not saying I still love Dana because I feel foolish even talking about that episode. I went to Bellingham straight afterward, I met up with Aunt Sis, she gave me a thousand dollars for the plane because I was with three children, we got on it, we flew to Seattle and we were picked up there by the same folks that I had come to terms with several years previously over my oldest son, where they had him during school, I had him during summer. It was winter then, we came to Bellingham and stayed in a house that overlooked the lumberyards on the bay, great stacks of lumber looking ever so much like thousands of coffins freshly made...I guess then the emotion of Dana left me, since he made it quite clear that I was unwelcome there, that I should go...there was nothing about me that he wanted or needed and for heavens sake, what an absolute putz to even consider it...but then his penis like the hand of the clock had told me it was time, a time signified by my bending over the kitchen sink and his catching a glance, if he even had, of my errant labia peeking from the cuff of the cutoff...and I was making pies, when I set the hot pies on the table in front of him and turned to say...en voila, is when I noticed what had happened to him...the evidence plain his face a mask..when there would have been in another time probably the German camp commander and the little boy that went over the fence and put on the striped pajamas..for that is how it all ended and probably why it was not a sacrifice to either of us to let it go, but we do have that time in mind, I think where we could read those letters to one another and actually be what we were then intended to be from that clock's arm, that destiny unveiled, though it never was in the sense that I had when I got to nine, ok we're going to strip off our clothes, the Yips will take the kids to the park, and we'll get down to the bottom of this, and I shall see your bottom at last, he said it was 'shaped like a heart' in my mind's eye, what I wanted to hear...but what I knew was that he and I were intellectual equals and that's been an issue all along..seeing and believing and understanding and processing and wondering why one does have to beat around the bush so much about stuff political when you just can't spew it in a tirade like Hitler did...well then you're a demagogue aren't you, probably the ultimate dictator, certainly...he tried to be that to keep me away from him so I kept it all in my heart, just locked it up and swallowed the key and probably last night when we were watching Planet of the Apes yet anew...and I was afraid for the animals and I felt I needed to use the bathroom, out it came..smelling as bad as then when it was let go and sent away into the septic system to be processed so that it came out here as a set of platitudes and observations about what troubles our society and why the only clue I ever had that he was reading my letters was an old Ford, the Repo Man variety car in dark navy, not dented, good upholstery, but paint actually faded, the kind of car a mother would give a son because the father had died and she drove the good one and this one was sitting in the garage undriven, that kind of car, and he had put a plastic alligator in the rear window and it was pretty dang obvious because I had written something about alligators in my last letter...can't remember what I'd said but it was of the notion that if he chose not to love me that I would develop; the hide of an alligator and hold inside and never let it out until he did care for me...that was the only clue I ever had that he had read the letters and who's to say that was his car parked right outside my office building on 17th and L, downtown DC where I would see it first thing when I walked out. I remember how I felt when I did see it, that car, I swallowed hard, I recognized Himmler on the stand at the Nuremberg trials telling the court that it wasn't the not sees that they had to worry about it was guys like Uncle Joe..and my eyebrows went up and I knew I can to achieve some kind of calibration of where everyone fit in this mess...if Dana was pretending to be a new reich then he could be what he would be...and I was playing a game that would jeopardize my marriage, for I was married at the time but we had only done that as a gesture of what do you call it, what has to be...because I was having our baby and that was what he wanted, my baby's father.. he wanted our daughter to have his name because he was her father, I wasn't into it...I think I knew that I wasn't going to be there always, we fought often and we always had but we were a couple and so it was, we had three children well not right then because there came a time we conceived the third one, another daughter, and that was part of what Dana was to me, if the last child was anyone's child, it was his, although the only part of me he ever saw that had anything to do with conceiving a baby was that little mole on my labia and bling..there it was..he saw it, became extremely tumescent and I saw that he had seen but I didn't know that he had...it was all very innocent, very discreet, and totally unprecedented because we didn't actually know one another, my husband was almost in awe of this guy, talked about it, Dana this Dana that...so that I was like ah this guy is to be respected, he's 'heavy'..in terms of counterculture, although I thought he yammered more than any Jew I'd ever known and I'd known a few having lived back East which isn't to say that my exposure was antiSemetic, not in the least because in New York, everyone knows Jewish people, New York seems to be a place of Jewish people, and so it was..I knew a little bit of every kind of culture, AfroAmerican/black the radical sorts the guys that would look at you and size you up by the color of your flesh...I think I began to feel I really had been born on Saturn around those folks but they bear me any ill will, because I'd gone to reservation school and had been taught as the white minority, how violent a person of another color may feel to you..and I thought it was not nearly as emotionally disturbing as Dana not loving me, eventually, well..then I saw the clock's arm, sitting across from him with the hot apple pie steaming behind my head on the table...that was a tableau I shall have to paint one of these days but first I recall the neoGerman expressionist works in the Corcoran where the artists used the linoleum floor to grieve over the Holocaust..so I have some of those same works now in my studio, because I did feel that way when Dana shouted at me...'that dumb broad' is all I hear...he was extremely annoyed that his legman in DC's wife showed up and wanted to f him..hehehe..'you c...you c...' well there was more to that word and it was not filbert but close..and what he said...and all these people showed up at nine one night while I was there, a handsome man in a tweed like a coat my father had when I was little in the fifties...dark hair, tall blue eyes, I made him up in my mind as the man in the South Seas who came to visit in a white linen suit he was German royalty (in my mind) and we were determining some capability of the planet in this remote place and he dropped onto the wharf from the boat and I realized it was the same thing as when at his mountain estate and the servants went running, I just couldn't swallow it, again and he was very charming and smiling and polite and very Jewish...well king of the Jews almost, and I never could get a good handle on my own appearance then, a sort of wild thing I was, but female, always female...and looking toward him, with some lover's arm about my waist, because I always had a lover it was never the person I was in love with, strangely..I was always moving towards a situation...like a disk in a computer, being changed out, again and again...I came to understand parts of that after Dana...but then this fellow shows up at nine I see how it is because Dana is Jewish, as Hitler had been Jewish as well, ,and the contradiction, well, then I did the holocaust research and while I walked away from that understanding that it had become of thing of consequence, like the Hotel Rowanda, like Bosnia..there was a reason for it..and direct operating systems, autoexecutor states, played into it...that the holocaust itself was represented by this factor and perhaps you couldn't really know anyone, but like the song said, 'love the one you're with' doodoodoodooodoo...do that, so it happens, but it seems it is always the one that is not with you..andthat's been an extreme resolution I've come to, that he is with me...I just have to get over being scared by abilities...TreeAge and so forth...borscht..and work toward it...I do think there'll be a time for the likes of Dana Beal but..eh, I don't worry about it much, just remember how funny it was how it happened that I fell in love with him after he saw mine and I saw his...that was hilarious and still is...but there has to beena painting of it, and perhaps some sketches...humorously intended, not the striped pajamas camp commander for that is him always...doing the logical, this is how it must be...and so we got Olmo I think, Grecian curls in his hair, a young Adonis, sturdy..more like Morrison in attitude than Beal, but there it was...marching along...ahh, I sigh..I need more coffee, I love this composing on laptop..I talk about Beal at last in a way that evokes the partition that had been there before, a little teary regret he found me so unacceptable once the moment was achieved, but then I have to think, as the foot hits the wharf and the white linen suit appears again in the tropical breeze, it was blowing up to be a dark storm that day, good thing he arrived when he did...we ran to the huts and our clothing blew about us, we didn't wear much but enough to be acceptable...he'd found me and given me logic and so I was logical then, and now...
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