Remember that foul words or blows in themselves are no outrage, but your judgment that they are so. So when any one makes you angry, know that it is your own thought that has angered you. Wherefore make it your endeavor not to let your impressions carry you away.
The audience was a reflection of the circus itself. Lots of clown people with too-big noses, droopy ears and vacant expressions trying to dissemble the system behind the seating. Standing around holding their coats and reading big signs directing them to “Reserved Section A” which, against all expectations was to be found both left, and right of center. As was “Reserved Section 1”. There were the requisite artist types with dreadlocks and rolled-wool clothing purchased at the Middle Ages Markt in Esslingen. Old ladies in expensive coats, and old men wobbling on canes, waving about glasses of proseco. Two wheelchairs, five children and a few shaved-head street criminal types. Were they there for effect or for my wallet?
It was a one-ring circus that opened with the Maestro handsome in his crimson velvet tails introducing the orchestra at eight o’clock in the evening. Just minutes after the three evenly-spaced but increasingly pleading announcements asking people to: “Please scoot to the inside of the row, without leaving empty seats - the house is sold out tonight” After which the audience to the left waited deafly for the audience to the right to begin. This resulted in absolutely no apparent change in seating availability as the next two hundred people streamed into the tent.
Including the 25 minute intermission, during which the audience was responsible for the entertainment, it was a three hour, nonstop, acrobatics, trapeze flying, balance act on stilts with four seals, a dozen pure-bred Arabian horses, and a Jack Russell Terrier thrown in for extra charm.
I don’t remember the last time I had that much fun.
Special thanks to Thomas Spörl for the use of his video.
The grey heaving sea
squirms in it’s fishiness
creating fogs of dirty rags
and other foolishness
in my bathroom.
My washing machine
- Nancy Carroll
Inspired by this paragraph in the post: Watermark from July 25, 2006
And then when the sun drops over the horizon you forget all this. You look at the gray heaving sea, and you say – oh yes, how foolish! the sea isn’t made of water; it’s made of fog. And the fog is made of dirty rags. Everyone knows that.”
With one wing she is falling
A body is calling.
Laughing, and crawling,
walking and talking,
blinking and thinking.
Learning yearning and burning.
First driving, then wiving,
and all through the waiting,
the aging and mating…
The tears she’s been crying,
are because she knows flying.
- Nancy Carroll
If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun dream through your singing mouth.
I don’t want your laughter or your steps to waver,
I don’t want my heritage of joy to die.
Don’t call up my person. I am absent.
Live in my absence as if in a house.
Absence is a house so vast that inside
you will pass through its walls
and hang pictures on the air
Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love, I will die again.
Words stand between silence and silence: between the silence of things and the silence of our own being, between the silence of the world and the silence of God. When we have really met and known the world in silence, words do not separate us from the world nor from other men, nor from God, nor from ourselves because we no longer trust entirely in language to contain reality.
- Thomas Merton
For a short time after that, I lived in a state of nearly perfect calm. My apartment was bare now, but rather than discourage me as I had thought it would, this emptiness seemed to give me comfort.
I would never again work to make people smile inanely and would take on the responsibility of making them think.”
p.hide First quote from page 50, second one from page 249
Guy and I travelled to San Francisco. I needed to see my mother. I needed to be told just one more time that life was what you make it, and that every tub ought to sit on its own bottom. I had to hear her say, ‘They spell my name W-O-M-A-N, ‘cause the difference between a female and a woman is the difference between shit and shinola.’