Saturday, October 14, 2006

No one told me about today

I've never had a Friday the 13th creep up on me like this before. Incredible! It has been quite a 24 hours. I don't know what is happening, but it's strange and fast and wonderful. Dots are connecting that have been separated by years and amnesia. I told Shawn about my last days with Githa this morning. I remember telling Anne about it one night while I sat on her couch and she laid on the rug. I don't know how or why it comes out when it does.

I made two batches of paper and nearly started fires while baking them. I walked to my favorite batch of big trees and sang a numbers song, and worried about what was blowing into my face b/c I was downwind from the corn harvesting. I finally took my violin to the red barn, climbed up onto the steel supports, and played to see how it felt. It was windy and I stopped early b/c I was worried about the cold on my instrument. I still don't know what is going to happen in that space for me. Kathleen's SASEs have been giving me daily stability w/mail art discipline, which has been a real gift.

After running in circles round my studio, I came downstairs to more gifts: a sweet, sweet book and letter from Tam (of course, I cut my thumb opening it), and then the mystery box from "Igloo People." I have my suspicions about who sent it, this strangest mail experience yet. It was a big, neatly-prepared box, and when I pulled out the plastic-wrapped white bundle, I thought for a moment that my mom had sent my wool coat back to me. It's magical; a totally anonymous gift. Chela said that that is the kind of mail I need to get more often, and when I said to Shawn that I was distraught b/c I couldn't reciprocate w/a mail art thank you (which I've been doing feverishly), he said that I need to learn how to receive things fully w/o feeling the need to give back. [He also freaked out b/c he showed me his igloo drawings from the past couple days; he is building a sauna & wood-burning stove, andconsiders both experiences as the same thing: sweating or freezing, collectively.] That was the gift I was getting more than an electric blanket, something to accept completely (I almost started to draw on it. Now I'm contemplating making a quilt out of it to replace my falling-apart one, which was also made from an electric blanket).

Tonight, I boiled water for miso, poured it into a pyrex bowl, and felt it shatter and burst, water and glass shards hitting me and the floor. It made me remember that even though I can open my own jars and cook for one, and even live w/bugs, broken glass is one thing that always makes me wish I lived w/someone else, b/c I don't know how to clean up invisible glass. I freak myself out w/scenarios of having it embed itself inside of me. When I was 12 or 13, I wanted to make "real" iced tea, so I boiled water and asked my mom where I could make the tea. She said I could use the new beautiful crystal pitcher with tiny fish carved into the sides, minnowing away. I put a bunch of fancy tea bags (the circles w/no tags) in the pitcher, poured in the water, and promptly witnessed a huge crack down the thick pitcher. I was horrified. Only then did she explain that boiling water will break glass. I felt awful and guilty, but thought I had learned my lesson. This was one of my favorite bowls here, too.

I feel like things are pouring out through opened channels and I can't keep up. At least not in terms of recording it all through writing. But that's okay; I like to hope that it all gets stored in a different kind of memory. I also feel like I'm finally being shown love in the way that I have wanted for so, so, so long: via post. I used to dream of getting this many care packages and letters when I was younger and had first discovered the magic of mail. All that longing has precipitated into the real thing, all at once. My laptop sits next to the old typewriter. I feel lucky and loved.

4 comments:

  1. cellular memeory that is where it all goes... then you don't have to work to remember it. i like it like that.

    i think you and i should have a joint 40th bday party somewhere big and fabo and have josh ritter as the "band" and guest of honor!!!! He can play for us all night long over and over and over.

    Maybe we could have it in black earth?

    love you like strawberry shortcake shoelaces!

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  2. Wonderful post, makes me feel a lot better then having had watched a scary movie last night, and the havings of trouble writing for the mail. which lately i am getting back into. it's easy to loose the good letter writing skills to the quickness of emails.
    sad but true.
    i almost cried the other day when i broke a mug that was painted by my aunt. even as a poor man, i still treasure what priceless items i have,

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  3. Mail is magic that way, isn't it? I have a letter that I got more than a week ago sitting open next to your typewritten letter I got yesterday so I can stare at them both. They make me feel loved, too. They make me remember a time when I got more mail; I miss the days before email, even though I am bad at letter writing. Of course, I'm a better email friend, so I shouldn't complain too much. Maybe you'll inspire me to write more letters. Add it to my list of changes.

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  4. thank god for cellular memory!! well, it has its drawbacks, too.

    i was really upset when i cracked my mug from andrea's husband last year. and then i got a new one, and it got chipped in the dishwasher at ox-bow, and then chipped some more when it fell out of the moving truck out behind tam's apt. those things are PRECIOUS.

    i love writing letters. i find the typewriter to be a really nice medium place b/t emails and handwritten (esp the old clunky ones where it's about as slow as writing).

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