Thursday, October 26, 2006

WHERE ARE YOU NOW....

Big L came by today with advice on cleaning the dishwasher along with one of those Lifesavers Popsicle I always rant on about … that’s all I ever wanted- just a popsicle- just one damn popsicle- I was lucky she could hunt one down since the cold weather. Everyone had problems searching for my one and only sickbed desire. Some maidens demand flowers grown on the farthest mountains on the furthest side of the world, me, I just want my lifesavers.

I feel trapped the more I regain my strength. I sit silently in the dark office in my housecoat at most hours if I am not sleeping in bed or watching the passing news hour headlines. (Old images growing up of lying sick in bed and hearing the CBC on the radio passing away the hours of the days.) Big L helped to clean my place up and I eagerly followed her around talking cheerfully to the point where I was exhausted to be on my feet for so long. I was simply delighted she came by on her day off to help me I could not excuse my behaviour. It has also been a while since I could even address my visitors because of how I looked and felt.

Still, my visitors come and go and I am trapped behind soap-oil paint doors as the season changes before my eyes.

The desire to paint is coming back. I keep the work strung around the apartment as a reminder to myself to either finish the job or at least be aware. Sometimes it is best to keep something in progress in view at for a longer period. Ideas come and go, the mood can change, something does not work, something more is needed- a good painting can have the potential to be a great piece with careful observation. Add strong decision making to that as well and buddy, you have the makings for someone who knows what they are doing. As long as you can prove that you understand and know your craft to some degree then who is anyone to question otherwise? (That was smart talk- wink)

The curse is how long I was overshadowed by illness that it has held me back confused and angry for most of the year. Now that it is winter the fodder of images I was to collect in the brighter, more colourful days of summer is not in my collection and all my streets and town buildings are cold hunched over grey-splotted clouds….

…and my mind burns under fever and illness as I lean back and imagine in my head because those images must come from SOMEPLACE if I am to survive this winter…