A Great Lake..."Its frown"

 

 

Lake Michigan

is a “wonderful body of water—changeable, in its broad stretch of varying, shifting color, its turbulence, its serenity, its smells and its frown. I have watched it for many a year, and never has it been the same on any two days.”

-Louis Sullivan

Los Angeles 19

I read about a renovation so complete it included:

Turning bricks around on an old building.

Have you heard of such a thing?

Breathe out breathe in fast.

It is fairly unsettling, I know.

This is the thing I’ve owned the longest.

My dad gave it to me when I was 8.

I saw it on the ground recently when I was at the car wash.

Which means that if I hadn’t glanced down I would never have

known where I lost it.

That is a bittersweet feeling but mostly sweet.

Am I losing it? My short term memory is for shit.

At a red light I pulled it out of my purse so that I wouldn't bring it through a metal detector.

 

A few days ago I was at the movies and I walked around

after and ended up in a mall store that sells puppies for a thousand dollars.

They were playing. In a plexiglass cube.

I don't have to tell you that is a bittersweet feeling but heavy on the bitter.

Oh those poor little idiots.

Dear You,

 

Hi.

So this is the last week for both of us. I saw so many movies last week. We surely must have had some overlap. Let’s discuss. Should we Skype, email, text, or blow it off?

Once, because my mind is jingled and open, I thought that I had an idea so great that the light was getting stronger just because the clarity or intensity of its presence. That was just my first time experiencing how a halogen light blub worked.  True story. 

                                     That was a fun night. Lets face it: we are simpletons.

So these are the photos Aunt Tat sent me last week. That’s our Great Aunt outside with her “pretty, spirited” and “very bright” persona. It’s true. You were named after her but I have the photos. Huh.  

  It would have been pretty cool to know her. She gets to be a mystery. Except for her astral projection that visited me while I was with my energy friend. And also my jeweler-friend while napping. Did you have one too? Tell me again. 

It felt real but not like real-real as if I couldn't tell it was special.

              And the ring. Magically soldered back together like something from Tolkien. 

                                                                 How radical was that story?  
 

                                                   Here is the chair where that took place. 

 

                                       The vision wanted to do this. And this, this. And this.

        

                                                              All the regular things.
                                                              So that's what we do.

Los Angeles 18

It was only felt by me I think, I guess, of course, because I was the only one who knew what was happening. But these are the things you asked for on the phone:

                                                                 Favorite Moments:

Shelving in Poetry a month in

I found two books of the same title by T

I quickly walked to the register and put them in the hands of the employee D

He said, where did you find these?

I said Poetry

He said, I want one while not taking his eyes off them

I said ok

I paid for mine on the spot

 

When Marianne Faithful purred at me: “You’re a gooood girl.”

The day a litter of stray kittens spent the day in the store.

Being interviewed by G and old my migraine trigger problem happened right then, incredible, I had an inkling on the bus ride over, this condition: my eye waters heavily and feels like an acid breeze is passing over my face and he looked at me with a quizzical expression and I finally said, “don’t worry you haven’t done this to me. Yet.” He laughed and handed me the name of the private investigator. 

When my instincts told me to talk to a stranger lady that walked in as the first customer of the day and through her, a tourist from Lincoln Nebraska, I found out someone I used to know, and loved, had died. I was able to get in touch with the parents of this person and later heard the story that when S was about to fade away she sat up straight in her hospital bed and looked at them and said, “Don’t speak. Be quiet” and then laid back down and died. Her death made them go deeply towards their religious roots. S was stunning. She had the sleek broad shoulders of a swimmer, a great throaty voice, and giant eyes. People would stop her in airports and public places to get a better look.  Also, she had BALLS.

And:

Peter Falk walking out the front door and stopped to do a Colombo, “Tell me one thing…” He WAS wearing a trench coat and no one was around but it did happen.

Letter, Right Back At You My Love

Hey! I miss you. Who are you?

Yes, he still says things like, "That is the best sentence I've ever heard in my entire life" and looks like he means it. And by the way I heard, I heard. Tremendous.

I was looking up from the garage and noticed these things that grew in the back yard. From seeds. Can you believe that? Maybe you can help me identify them someday. I'd love to know what they are. I can't even take a stab at it. Perhaps I should go back and get a botany degree.

I thought of your cross country move when I went you know where to see you know who. She was waiting in the dark. Near the fireplace but it was all too shadowed to make anything else out. Her lumped outline in the rocking chair and her layers and heaps of blankets and clothing: open weave thrift store on top, fleece somewhere, cashmere on the bottom, her eyes peeked out as the usual pin darts. Curiously, no hat. You have to go for a visit. Tell me you will.

You will remember all this but just indulge me. Those not in the know come to the "front" door. The "back" door is where one is expected. She still corrects people. While they are standing there. The first door you see when walking up the path is the front door even though it doesn’t open without a crowbar and a team of mastiffs. It is all a dry memoir with a touch of science fiction.

In one of the robin's egg blue foreverstuck cabinets George found our tiny trio of wood bears. He refers to them as "The Twigs." One of them is missing a front leg and he fashioned a toothpick into a pirate appendage. Too much for me sometimes. Just overwhelmed by the greatness of that little moment. His Uncle Bee sent me an architecture book and the simple swirling ink suggestion to "Eat More Walleye" this summer. Now that its all over I have to say I should have. You too.

I've got a real-deal book for you. "Warlock" by Oakley Hall. Its about our hometown 125 years ago. Just get it. Then start in right away. We can talk about it on the plane. I plan on keeping you awake the whole time with stories and antics. I'll start by telling you the word. I re-purposed it yesterday after a long breakfast. So simple and so obvious. It begins with L but it isn't...nor is it...but: you'll get it. And it will work.

Be safe Dummy,

R