| Moving, staying still |
[Nov. 5th, 2008|10:56 pm] |
I sit here and watch Ghost Hunters reruns, a ghost in my own house, touching the things we leave behind (with my mind) until the final cleaning. Our traces.
I read books about writing (How I Write: The Secret Lives of Authors). I read books about making art (Lynda Barry's amazing new book). I make no art. But now I write.
A small splash of fake blood on the toilet lid from Halloween preparations before a night at Geno's. Fluorescent stains of manic hair dye here and there on bathroom furniture and floor (whoops). In the kitchen, a lingering, crystallized splatter of caramel where Salli works her magic on the gas stovetop (we will miss it in our new all-electric kitchen. Although it has a dishwasher. Although it has a disposal unit in the sink).
Mr. Bones sits, the top of his skull disarranged, on a pile of stuff that needs to go to my studio. He is still grinning. Good, one of us needs to.
The old green velvet couch I sit on, typing, and have spent many evenings on before. It will go out to the curb, and hopefully find a good new home where they won't mind (like me) that the cats have had a go at the stuffing on its elbows.
The clocks tick.
Everything echoes.
Things are in boxes. Some will not come out again for years, I just know. Because this is temporary, this exile. We must leave this home that is not our home but was. Go to a new home that is not our home (with mysterious strawberry blonde wig left in the kitchen, more mysterious cheesy smell coming from the disposal). But not stay there. Because I am going to buy a house. A home of my own (our own). Because I am tired of uprooting like this when now it is time for something I do not get uprooted from (although Cynicism says "Do not forget about Eminent Domain").
This year has been strange. It will all be okay. It will all work out. It always does. It isn't easy. But that is the only thing normal in this world, always.
There are too many things that live with us. Some go away. Probably too many will stay.
There is a bookcase in a funny place in the livingroom here. Waiting to go. I am waiting to go. I should be in bed, asleep.
As in-between exiles go, this one will not be that bad. The parking is somewhat nightmarish. The space is too small for as many as we are. The total rent due each month is terrifying. BUT the heat is included. BUT it is a pretty cool space, about 30-40 years older Victorian than our old [weep] place. The landlord seems nice. It is almost right across the street.
The change is not over, there will be more. Upheaval. I will remain me. We will remain we, but different. It is always the way. It will be alright. |
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| The froggy wonder |
[Oct. 27th, 2008|12:41 pm] |
Just reading an article in "Fate" magazine while I'm subbing here at the Reiche branch, and a quote from Charles Fort caught my eye:
I believe nothing. I have shut myself away from the rocks and wisdom of ages, and from the so-called great teachers of all time, and perhaps because of that isolation I am given to bizarre hospitalities. I shut the front door upon Christ and Einstein, and at the back door hold out a welcoming hand to little frogs and periwinkles. |
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| Upheaval |
[Oct. 16th, 2008|08:46 pm] |
Witness the Burping Cosmic Chicken who ate the missing shoe.
You know how some years/months it just seems like everything is getting thrown at you, something is amuck in the cosmic pattern? And you think to yourself, "Ha ha ha, the only other thing that could really happen now is that we find out we have to move!!!"
And then the phone rings, and your landlord says, "Are you sitting down?" and you know you better damn well sit down.
It could be worse. We have the option of staying on through our lease 'til June 1, which is what we're going to do.
Over the last month or so, I've been pretty sure that something is running amuck. Now I know for sure! Amuck, amuck, AMUCK!!!
I'm sure everything will be fine, and I know that this change will be good, and we're lucky to have enough time to make plans. But I'm pretty sure it means I'm going to have to go back to a 9-5 type job (or at least a full-time one), because I cannot make enough money limited to my part-time hours at the library as is, and if you increase my rent.... or if I want to qualify for a mortgage... Yeah. |
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| It's alive |
[Aug. 8th, 2008|01:54 pm] |
I'm reading Stephen King's It right now, for the first time. It's great summer reading, a good followup to reading Dan Simmons' Summer of Night last summer.
I've noticed a couple of things in reading it. Number one, practically ALL my friends read it when they were young, somewhere around 12 or 13 years old. At that age I was pathologically opposed to reading horror on the scale of Stephen King, after an abortive attempt at reading Salem's Lot. It terrified me. I didn't realize until in my 20s that fighting against that horror and through it is good. REALLY good.
Number two, and leading from that, I think I would have been better off if I had read some, especially It. I mean, yes, I enjoyed a singularly naive childhood, which in some ways (many ways) touches the quality of my life now. And I don't think it's always a good thing to grow up quickly as a child. But a little bit of the experiential information that Stephen King codes into his children characters probably would have helped me a lot.
Right now I'm reading the segment where Eddie Kaspbrak is recalling his beating by Henry (Harry?) Bowers, and his epiphany about placebos and the needs of his mother. His instruction, both by himself, the adults, and the circumstances surrounding him is... well it's hard to describe, but reading it, the sense of empowerment and truth is palpable. I think I could have benefitted from that as a kid. I spent too much time simply allowing myself to be led along, and then suffered when it came time to effect great changes on my own all at once.
But I've got to go back to work now!!! Later... |
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| Apocalypse now |
[Jul. 20th, 2008|12:13 pm] |
I spent a lot of time thinking about the apocalypse this spring. Then I stopped. But today a new phase in my thinking occurred to me. I think the apocalypse has already happened, and we just didn't notice. And the zombie movies that appeal to us so much... really we're the zombies. Right now.
Just sayin'. |
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| The key to it all |
[Jul. 18th, 2008|07:56 am] |
My housekey and my copy of the car key have been missing for 2 1/2 weeks. They showed up last night on top of the post at the top of the stairs here in the house. The only thing is, it wasn't Tristan that left them there, it wasn't Salli, it wasn't Mich, and it wasn't Adam.
I'm thinking house elves. |
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| Gluttony |
[Apr. 16th, 2008|12:10 am] |
On a much lighter note, I just had a small fit and ordered some BPAL (Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab) stuff. Dammit. I have been soooo good, but can't find my Miskatonic University perfume and want it NOW, and then some other stuff caught my eye... I have a sneaking suspicion that their descriptions have a lot to do with my consummate attraction to them (although some, like Tulzcha, it's really the scent -- mint, yum!)
I ordered imps (samples) of Hellcat, Drink Me, Tombstone, Gluttony, Envy, Absinthe, as well as a restock of my favorite, Miskatonic University. My other main favorites are Grand Guignol, Tulzscha, and Undertow.
Further delectable details:
HELLCAT:
A soft, sensual, luxuriant blend with a wicked bite: hazelnut, buttercream, honey mead, rum and sweet almond.
ENVY:
Green herbs slithering through mint, lime and lavender.
GLUTTONY:
Thick, sugared and bloated with sweetness. Dark chocolate, vanilla, buttercream, and hops with pralines, hazelnut, toffee and caramel.
ABSINTHE:
Fall under the spell of our Green Fairy! An intoxicating blend containing wormwood essence, light mints, cardamom, anise, hyssop, and the barest hint of lemon.
TOMBSTONE:
A celebration of one of the first commercially produced perfumes of America's Old West. A rugged, warm blend of vanilla, balsam and sassafras layered over Virginia cedar.
DRINK ME:
There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, ('which certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words 'DRINK ME' beautifully printed on it in large letters.
It was all very well to say 'Drink me,' but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. 'No, I'll look first,' she said, 'and see whether it's marked "poison" or not'; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked 'poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was not marked 'poison,' so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.
BPAL’s Drink Me is not for drinking. Please use common sense, and remember: perfume oils are for external use only.
Background info:
MISKATONIC UNIVERSITY:
A venerable New England university, whose vast library holds many rare, diabolical and obscure arcane works, including one of the few surviving legitimate copies of the Necronomicon. Home to innumerable scholars of the esoteric and the occult, and the notorious Dr. Herbert West.
The scent of Irish coffee, dusty tomes and polished oakwood halls. (The yummiest of all!)
UNDERTOW:
The Dark Side of Water: clean and purifying, yet menacing -- lotus and juniper with a hint of mint. A scent dragged up from the depths to the Stygian shore.
TULZSCHA (from the Springtime in Arkham series):
A belching column of sick greenish flame... spouting volcanically from depths profound and inconceivable, casting no shadows as healthy flame should, and coating the nitrous stone with a nasty, venomous verdigris. For in all that seething combustion no warmth lay, but only the clamminess of death and corruption.
A crystalline, cold green fire: six mints with white pepper and cucumber.
GRAND GUIGNOL (from the Bewitching Brews series):
In 1897, a new form of entertainment was presented to the people of Montmartre, Paris: the Théâtre du Grand Guignol. During the course of an evening at the theatre, one would watch several small plays, ranging from crime dramas to sexual farces, a violent, throat-ripping, eye-gouging, acid-tossing good time, which always included shock topics such as infanticide, necrophilia, insanity, murder, paranoia, vengeance and death by common household object. Our Grand Guignol perfume is a shot of sweet apricot brandy; just enough to settle your nerves after a ghoulish, gory brush with the macabre. |
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| It's best to ... |
[Apr. 6th, 2008|08:41 pm] |
Great quote from Leepike Ridge by N.D. Wilson (a great read, by the way).
From the epilogue/author's note:
"Going where no man has gone before is more difficult than it sounds. Our cousins and ancestors were no less curious than we are, and were perhaps bolder. This world is their tomb.
You should look under the bed." |
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| Musings on Bigfoot |
[Mar. 22nd, 2008|08:33 pm] |
So over the last few months or so, I've been researching Bigfoot as much as a person can without going out and sitting in the forest. Which is not to say I am averse to sitting in the forest. In fact, I would love a good excuse to do so. But I digress!
I've read the classic accounts, such as the Bords' survey of U.S. activity, theBigfoot Casebook Updated: Sightings And Encounters from 1818 to 2004, and John Russell Napier's Bigfoot; The Yeti and Sasquatch in Myth and Reality. The rest of the list includes the three staple Loren Coleman books: The Field Guide to Bigfoot, Yeti and Other Mystery Primates Worldwide, Tom Slick and the Search for the Yeti and Bigfoot: The True Story of Apes in America by Loren Coleman. And an assortment of other texts, some more or less important than the others... the list goes on.
Anyways, right now I'm reading Bigfoot Exposed: An Anthropologist Examines America's Enduring Legend by David J. Daegling, which is actually one of the more interesting of the lot, because it really seems to be digging at the roots of the whole phenomenon. The problems... the mysteries... why it all happens, what are we left with -- a handful of hopeful evidence that seems to get mishandled? ...a bunch of jokers? ...a slew of convincing eyewitness accounts of... SOMETHING. I think I had a point but after trying to start the list of all the books I've been reading, my mind kind of glazed over. I must apologize! Gah. Spazz on the keyboard.
Anyways, since I've forgotten what I was going to say, I'll just mention that I've got some really exciting texts in front of me as soon as I finish Bigfoot Exposed, including Where Bigfoot Walks: Crossing the Dark Divide (on the philosophical side) by Robert Michael Pyle, and Smokey and the Fouke Monster by Smokey Crabtree (classic Bigfoot eyewitness account), not to mention Chad Arment's The Historical Bigfoot, which deals with one of my biggest questions about the beasts, and where the stories of them came from, if it is all folklore (which is mildly disappointing because it only has one early Maine account, and that is a weird one at best).
Apparently I can't speak coherently tonight. So I'm going to sign off. Gahh!! Witness my blank brain. Heck, it's Saturday night. |
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| Book notes |
[Feb. 3rd, 2008|06:12 pm] |
Just a few things off slips of paper so I can note for later:
Good reads from winter 2007:
A Thief in the House of Memory by Tim Wynne-Jones
Behind the Curtains by Peter Abrahams
Deep & Dark & Dangerous by Mary Downing Hahn (supposed to take place in Maine, very haunting)
The Arrival by Shaun Tan (which totally blew my mind)
Ideas from last summer for art:
Frogs with facial hair
The Alabaster Eye
The Black Dragon |
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