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at last at last. friday. the funk has lifted, the bleakness of earlier in the week has gone. i have SO much to do (in the next 3 weeks: 2 trips, 2 publications, 1 arthistory paper, 1 arthistory final, prepare for YAY The Girls!) , there is no time for black moodiness. still obsessed by coat-hunting, narrowing choices, *determined*. one will come, soon, i just know. yesterday it was nice to leave work a little early (still daylight!) and wander downtown and look and try on. i was tempted by the black North Face parka, but at that price it was just not quite right. then meeting my sweet poet in a dive for dinner, wandering back to the store to see what he thought about the coat … to Liberty Hall for 2-for-1 dvd’s for the weekend … home in the dark.
and then … TEA. no no no NO bobbi! no matter how much work you have to do, NO TEA at NIGHT. lying awake until 1:30, pissing every half hour. not a good night. amazing i feel so lively this morning.
when i woke and went to the kitchen to make coffee, i hoped my poet had played a little trick on me, and threw away all those cracker bits i left on the counter, so i would get all crazy about having mice. he swears he didn’t. he SWEARS. the cracker bits are gone though. so i guess those little black lumps on the counter *weren’t* burnt popcorn bits that flew out of the pot. mouseshit. MICE again! UGH!!!!! i haven’t heard or smelled them, though?
and then … Sad. of course i knew it would happen. galleries are dropping like flies. not just here. but seriously, it seems in our little town there is NO interest, certainly no commerce, around art these days. it seems the people possibly interested are the ones with the $8/hour jobs, who can barely pay rent and bills. the others who *could* afford, are often snobbish, supporting only certain well-known, or rather conservative, artists (and not well enough for those artists’ survival, i’m sure). i will admit there is a lot of “art school” art here, noisy with little substance, sometimes lacking in skill or beauty (and i don’t mean “pretty” - i mean a certain visual fineness that i don’t really know how to explain).
still … i dream. and feel certain that if i could build it. they would come.
but maybe not in this town. *maybe*. i still feel some possibility.