Monday

Jason was telling me about this sculpture he is working on and I felt a pang of jealousy at his ability to delve so deep into the fantasy surrounding this weird cat/temple creation. It has been a while since I created any ideas from scratch.

On the other hand, I find the reality that presents itself to me to be the captivating one. It is bizarre and unexplored and gorgeous and cruel and absolutely constructed. Why make up a proxy when such a beast lays before me?

I walk through the supermarket with music from a century ago coursing through my mind. I think of old dusty roads and parasols and babies hanging off their mothers’ backs, their mothers dressed in layers of kimono, covering their laughing mouths as they buy live chickens from the market stall. What a juxtaposition with the shiny linoleum, the deli foods cradled in plastic, the robot rolling around to scan the shelves for vacancies. And yet still babies hang off of their mothers, still mothers cover their mouths when they laugh.

It is enough for me, just to be alive, to see the light through the green vines, to watch the high-schoolers flying past on bicycles, my neighbor with her bundle of flowers for the family alter. I don’t have to make up anything; this world, as it stands, as I see it, is more than enough.


Tonight, the moon rose orange and round. Tonight, I am restless.