foto by Lady – Smith in Brandt Gallery basement OVERWHELMED My head hurts. Feels thick. My body is overly dominant. I am a thin sliver of being, numb spirit behind body. Everything mental is too much effort. My priority is physical forward progression: eat, urinate, shower, cook, shop, leave the country. Mental is second. I love writing just my thoughts, but it feels an indulgence. Before I sit down, I think, “Well, I should pick a particular topic and write about that.” But picking a particular topic seems too broad, like trying to hold the moon, the tides. I should’ve learned by now that I should just write what comes out, unbidden, my own spring, my bubbling forth, my font. I have not much to say on other peoples’ blogs lately. I think, well, they’ve written a complete thought, there is nothing non-trivial I can add to it. Others’ blogs lately seem too much a daily dedication, and if I’m not even willing to give my *self* the respect of daily writing, a daily journal, why do I feel compelled to read others’ words and comment meaningfully? Could be that I’m just so overwhelmed by this visit that I CAN’T comment substantially on others’ blogs right now. I hope y’all understand. An example of what we’ve been doing almost non-stop for eleven days: yesterday I made curry for my parents’ visit at 1:00, they left at 4:30, I took a ten minute nap, one of Smith’s best friends and his family knocked on the door at 4:45, we walked over to an ice cream shop and park with them, returned by 6:30, my two good girlfriends came by at 6:35 to take me to a movie, and by this point I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open, we watched the movie, and they dropped me off at home by 9:30. I’m trying to give everyone my full attention, really get the most out of this visit, but I just cannot be “on” socially for eight hour shifts day after day. In the past week went to four poetry readings to try and see as many friends as possible. Smith was so tired at one that he forgot most his lines, and I read my poems sans energy at the last two readings. Saturday night we went out to dinner with a dozen friends, and I felt that in my effort to try to connect with everyone, I short shrifted all. And then I worried about my ego: maybe my inclination to make everyone comfortable is a condescending, patronizing assumption. |