Thursday, July 31, 2008
In Washington you stir-fried kale and garlic, and in Mississippi you almost died and felt like a surly ogre, half asleep on the couch. Awake (“as usual”), at 5:30, even though it’s Friday, because I was flesh and drank coffee, I sit by the window under my pink, blue and violet toddler quilt, in a rickety chair I hope won’t wake Michaela up (as I look for a place to wipe my snot, as I begin sneezing) and look past the photo of our faces she copied to transparency, taped to a square of glass and hung by a ribbon from the window latch, at the blue, pink and plumbous edges of a sunrise hidden behind the trees. “Blue palms and now blueprints and the maze a sunbeam yellow which could not thread brown as a blueberry in the sunset pink grape as a red clay in the arctic blue and the shaded pink as indigo over a blueprint in the sun’s sky blue maze.” Dreamed we walked through Portland over many superimposed transparencies in various colors showing the many ways of living in and perceiving a city according to a few variables: scale in time, location in time, scale in space, location in space, “permissiveness,” theme (such themes as: jobs, the lives of inanimate objects, maritime history, mice, etc.). Gameboard squares, counters.