WALKING ON THIN ICE

i’m snapping at people around me, including lady. that is a no-no.

it’s no excuse, but i’m tired of
being cold . . .
being sore . . .
too little sleep . . .
being tired . . .
too many people, not enough down time between . . .
being back in america . . .
not enough time to hang show or prepare reading . . .
too little weed to reduce edge above . . .

and i’m tired of all my external excuses.

just as alcohol releases the demons within, so exhaustion and frustration release my natural crankiness and curmudgeon-ness. i hope that’s explanation, and not excuse. i am not a social creature - i’d make a right fine hermit.

call me the loan reality arranger - they will whisper of me as i pass, “who was that masked sham?”

wednesday, i cleaned and hung 49 pieces of art on 4 walls in 4 hours. anyone ever hung a show knows that’s fast time - - - 5 minutes per piece to clean, decide, and hang. some pieces are 2 decades old. same gallery Lady’s show’s in - we’re piggy-backing on her 23 pieces.

after hanging, we went across the street and read poetry to our smallest audience yet - 7. but great reading. lady selected an exceptionally effective set. remember a poetry reading 11 years ago with the legendary daniel thompson - we had 6 poets reading, 1 person in the audience . . . and yet had a wonderful evening. poetry god say “wherever 2 or more gather in my name . . .”

thursday took us 3 hours and 5 buses to visit lady’s grandmother in her assisted living home. then she and she spent 3 hours catching up on relatives i’ve not met. afterwards, we went to monthly Lit poetry performance till 1. long day, short night, gray bags grow beneath my eyes. could be in romero’s next zombie movie without make-up.

seeing lady’s grandmom made me think on how close i am to physical incapacitation, being at the mercy of nurses, institutional food, other’s druthers. i don’t believe i can let that happen - will have to go out with an avant-garde perfromance piece, leaving one last tale to be whispered among the young grasshoppers.

up 7 friday, price the show, print gallery wall maps, post the data, then 6 to 10 work the ArtWalk walkers who might stop by. it’s cold dreary weather, which affects culture crowds. mind say yes, body say no. matter over mind.

in spite of my whining above, a good show was hung, a good poetry reading performed, and life, sense, and place are better than they were before, for both us and others. a good week.

today, saturday - great art crowd last night in spite of cold wet. good conversation, new and old friends. i sold one piece. i hang 49, sell 1… lady hangs 23, sells 6. mother dwarf also always outsold me. the women in my life do better with folk than i do.

now, on to morning food shopping, morning laundrey doing, afternoon monthly poetry reading, evening poetry/art lecture, occasional weed in between.

no wick for the un-rested.