Okay, I know this may be cheating a bit, but I have loads of writing tucked away and it’s always fun (in a self-humiliating, masochistic kind of way) to go back and rediscover the past. So I’m going to try and do these two (years) and one (month) specials every now and then.
Two years and a month ago I wrote:
Today is reflective, romantic, melancholy, and hopeful. Watched Henry and June, finally. Had been on my list for a long time. But was reading up on Anais Nin a couple of months ago - led there by a surrealist/erotica search for an abstract painting I loved but can’t remember the name of, nor the artist. Saw it today and picked it up. The Left Bank in that time period is an obsession for me. I missed my time, you see - I should have been there! I should have been young there! I should have made love there! Henry Miller, strangely enough, I have never read. Started Tropic of Cancer once, quite a while ago, but couldn’t get through it. Maybe I should try it again now that I’m older.–What did I do this afternoon? First, the dentist. Yuck. He didn’t wear gloves. Is that normal? Freaked me out. But decent guy, explained before he touched, which I like. Of course I marched in with my records from my last dentist, knowing what I wanted, ready to fight. But it was okay. Medicine is much more human here. I like it more. Then again, you’re walking into somebody’s house, which is always a little strange. Paolo had part 1 of a root canal long over-due (I saw that tooth a couple of years ago and said so). Yes, I know everything.Then what? Bank, to take care of some things. Unusually hot in the lobby with the sun shining through. Sweating and grimacing while transferring “large” amounts of money. Then inside to set up some automatic transfers. Charmed the guy behind the desk; had him laughing. Good-looking black guy, young, gave me some free stuff and a new password for my CD-banking thing. Funny conversation about why I’ve had it for two years and not used it… basically, week 2 after arriving here, I understood “vous… madame… banque…transferer… ” and they handed me the CD. “Oui, oui”. That was the end of that. Not to mention, I didn’t have a computer until this past September.–SO, after the bank, to the climbing shop. Was supposed to be a brief walk-through. Couldn’t resist, bought a new crashpad. My other one is so small it starts to look like a postage stamp from just a couple of feet off the ground. Good for extra padding, but not for motivation. Also got new pants - on sale, “the ugliest things I”ve ever seen” according to Paolo. But I like ugly.After that, haircut. Got the weird gay guy. But I’ll look for him again next year - put my head in the little tank and he washed my hair. I love my hair touched, and my head. He scratched my scalp a bit under the warm water; I closed my eyes, it felt so good. He did it for a couple of minutes. I almost fell asleep right there. He was very gentle the whole time, but never too gentle - knew also when to pull, and how to dry my hair so my scalp felt good. Heaven in 6 minutes. Then groceries, then home. Long afternoon. Hair smells nice - he sprayed some stuff in it, sweet, like smelling the wind come off an orchard of fruit… apples and lemons and peaches together?–I need to break the awful habit of using smiley-face emoticons, non-words like ”lol’ and “imho”. If I can’t express those emotions creatively in words, then I shouldn’t be trying to write at all. It’s bad for writing well, and writing expressively. At least to an audience who you know is intelligent and capable of subtlety.–I’m enjoying the Venice book immensely, but it’s incredibly distracting. I need to look up and explore every character I come across. So I’m only half way through. Finished the Missouri Review in one night. Still shitting myself over the quality of work, and the (lack of) quantity. Interview in there with David Sedaris, one of my heroes of pulp literature. Oxymoron in that phrase, I know, but you know what I mean if you’ve ever read Sedaris.
May 25th, 2009 at
About the Venice book: “attenzione, caduta angeli” I loved that! A sign saying “beware, falling angels” posted outside a church is just a great, unintentional, piece of irony.