cobaltika

the weather is changing quickly and it is more and more difficult to get up in the mornings. also it is Too Dark! and the bed is just so cozy… *and* my tiny alarm clock is misbehaving. the snooze button seems to be broken. so i overslept this morning. but it was so worth it. what a curious dream. i was in what seemed to be a hotel or hospital room, but the people around were from my office. i was looking through my things and found an old combination polaroid camera/field glasses and held it up to look out the window. it didn’t work and seemed to fall apart in my hands. i opened the back and there was still polaroid film inside. sticky and half-pulled apart. the image was very interesting, reddish and mottled, just texture. i saw that there was another group of polaroids clipped inside, stored there. i was delighted to find them.

then i pulled out the tattered box of the camera and sat on the floor to open it. it was FULL of negatives and images. some odd polaroid film on a roll. i began to look through the images. they were wonderful. very old, with extreme compositions and discolorations. i felt connected to the person who made them, because i recognized a similar vision. in particular i remember a snapshot of a woman and two children, with the figures at the extreme lower left corner and part of a house and empty space the background. and several images of groups of mailboxes, some on posts, some nailed to walls. and perhaps a flock of birds.

i was seated in an awkward place, though, in front of the door to the room, where people needed to pass in and out. they did not seem to notice my treasures. even when i made small squeals. i wanted to organize and examine the photos though, before i tidied up and moved aside. they were everywhere. and they kept growing. the box kept replenishing and i discovered more and more. i realized i could scan all of the negatives. i could hardly wait to mess around with them.

then i woke.

as i was (hurriedly) dressing, i told my dream to my poet, describing it as almost orgasmic. it reminded me of my “house dreams” - where i am in a interesting old house and keep finding new rooms. to him, the meaning of parts of the dream was fairly clear, with the box of photos being my Self. i agreed, having recognized that in the house dreams, the house was me. i am still thinking about the other things that seemed clear to him, but not necessarily to me. like the part of obstructing the doorway. and why the treasures were not interesting to others. and another part. erf. see? my brains are already being pulled into the fluorescents.

contemplation to be resumed on the walk home…

from yesterday’s walk on the east side. i guess i won’t publish the portrait of the dead raccoon in the street. (not on the east side, but near the river). i have been wanting to make portraits of dead wild animals for years (roadkill, if one wishes to be precise), but of course it seems sort of creepy and i have never stopped on the edge of the road and Done It (yet). i don’t want mashed and mangled creatures, but only the ones who seem to have been tossed from life to the edge of the road. sometimes their poses are so dramatic and passionate. i don’t know why i am fascinated. but the raccoon looks rather beautiful. i just might.

lately i seem to have started looking at things differently. composing with my eye. arranging. it doesn’t always work. and sometimes i am the only one to notice the difference. but it amuses me.

a quiet weekend. fine with me. the week seemed tiring and we played almost all of last weekend. my poet has been on sort of a DVD binge, bringing free films home from the library, now that we have discovered powerbook theatre on the coffee table. it is sort of fun, as i haven’t watched many movies in the past few years. but i do wonder if i am going to have to take up crochet or something … as an option to popcorn-eating. he has been bringing home french films mostly. i asked when we might see spanish films? so on friday night we had a portuguese film. The Travel Picture. UGH! i know the director is experienced and respected, but it was AWFUL! duller than dog-do, then suddenly, boom! it’s over. (literally). it was like going to an art school event. being bored to tears, then thrown something to startle and attempt to evoke an extreme emotional response. we couldn’t believe we watched the whole thing! portuguese is a very very different language than spanish. now, i understand. yesterday it was hot and windy. i didn’t leave the house. cleaning and chores reigned. some artTable time. bringing up fall clothes. another movie - Seaside. much better. today it is cold and gray, with the threat of rain. but a long walk seemed essential. we walked to the river, downtown, Indian buffet, more walking, then home. now it is nap time and the finishing of a project that i can’t write about. not that i think for a second that margaret reads this journal, but just in case …

it is so peaceful here today.

no cake last night. but there was blueberry pie!

today i carried my *old* jamcam, as the *new* one always seems to capture images so darkly. hmmm. this one seems just as bad. most were almost black. except for these sunflowers which required some tinkering. i wonder if it is the new software? i will have to ask traci. i miss using my jamcam, but lately most of the images just seem to suck. i have been longing to capture these sunflowers almost every day. so. finally. i wonder why i won’t just carry my normal digital to and from work? ho hum. that’s why.

it is friday. could i be more glad?

i am now the mother of an adult. betsy turns 21 today. it is shocking, in a way. i was so glad to be able to talk to her this morning. i was terrified i might have to say Happy B-day on a voicemail. she is always so busy. but i was walking to campus and so was she! i am *not* one of those people who walks along with my phone glued to my ear, but this morning it was great, as if i were walking along with her. i miss her very much. i haven’t seen her since May. it seems forever.

i should like to sit still all day, in the fresh air, and recall every detail of the day she was born. it was so amazing. she was born at home in austin, texas. in our attic apartment, no air-conditioning, a rainy saturday. it took all day. the midwives were incredible. i had a lavender bath and rescue remedy when needed. the students in the condo’s on one side of us slammed the windows shut, due to my noises. the wetbacks from the other side of us sat as sentinels at the edge of the driveway, until david came out later in the day to let them know it was a girl. then they shook his hand and smiled and went back to their yard. she had red fuzz on her head. we had paella and champagne after. i felt like a goddess and david played talking heads “little creatures”. i remember every detail.

maybe i should have some cake for dinner?

: : : : : : :

now i’m back and a little frustrated. i didn’t really *want* to go to class today. i wanted to sit here and write. i am liking this new journal. i like the way it looks. i don’t even mind the writing box too much. but i am having difficulty finding the right time to write. in the morning, before work, is too early and rushed. i am filled with thoughts on the walk up the hill. but have difficulty writing once in the office, not just because i *should* be working, but because i lose my thoughts and begin to feel soulless, drained and braindead. by the time i walk home, i am more refreshed, but i never regain those lost parts of myself again. until the weekend. and it goes so quickly. also, i might be suffering a little from not enough alone time. this is not a whine or a complaint, just a statement of fact. as our schedules are now, he has alone time all day, and i have none. as we are both aliens, we need quite a bit of alone time. lately i feel he has too much, and i have had none for quite some time, so … this week i think we are both feeling a little odd.

so i went to class, even though i would have preferred to sit under a tree and think. most days i love my medieval art history class. i like to sit in the dark and look at pictures, and listen, and write on my gesso pages with colored pencil lines. when i turn the pages, a squicking noise happens and i wait for someone to frown at me. i dare not miss class. i would have to ask one of the babies for notes. how embarrassing. not to mention, i notice many of the ones around me are reading the paper instead. i don’t make friends in class. i’m too old. i wonder when i will just stop.

this morning i was wondering why the reason i am so unsuccessful at art, and living a more creative life, not being so bound to A Job, is not so much because of debt and lack of energy, but because of fear. because of being a chickenshit. oh. i don’t think i can ponder this now. i feel my brains being sucked toward the pale white tubes in the ceiling panels…

then on sunday, we also went out in the car again. first looking for the big sunflower field, which i could not find, then through some small towns, then to Perry Lake where we walked around a bit and looked at the different wildflowers growing in the rocks along the shore. i played at making abstracts out of macros. not very successful or interesting really. my head hurt and my spine, too. ugh. then home. we ate - bread, mozzarella, olives, a salad of tomatoes, avocado and scallions (which always leave a taste in my mouth as if i’ve eaten from a garbage pail). a quiet evening mostly. i feel a little drab and dreary right now. that happens sometimes. often i know what sets it off, other times it is a mystery. (although if i think hard enough, i can figure it out, if i really want to. most times i prefer to let it pass, as it will) i prefer not to dwell in the dark place, although i go there often enough, for a short time. contrast is interesting.

i have done pretty well at summer this year. i have been outdoors a LOT, and worn appropriate clothing even, though i was seldom really comfortable with what felt like too little. but today it felt wonderful to put on my black knee-high tights and TWO layers of shirting, with the tight black skirt that is going to have to be replaced very very soon. boots soon. and SWEATERS. oh good.

yesterday i felt inclined to stay in and work at the artTable. silly me, as he reminded me at the breakfastTable “it is Car Weekend!” we went to KC on friday afternoon, for his errand, some shopping and to visit with friends. we have to rent a car once a month for the trip to KC, as my car won’t make it that far (probably, but i don’t want to test her. ever again) of course, it is right that we should play in the car all weekend! artTable can come later (someday. i just know…)

so off we went, to Council Grove, a place we had passed through and i thought it might be interesting to wander around with a camera sometime. it was. then, since we were so close, to the Tallgrass Prairie preserve, where we had visited last spring. the drive was incredible. the colors. migod. my driveby camera would not work though. sob. we walked there as long as they would let us, then drove to Cottonwood Falls, which was a rather unnerving surprise. i can’t quite put my finger on why. there was a gallery showing the photography of Edward C Robison III and Mark Feiden which was very wonderful. usually i am pretty cold toward landscape photography (even mine), but theirs was brilliant. what a treat.

then we drove home and made dinner. a good day.

the trip begins here…