Friday, January 04, 2008

Afternoons of Smoke And Wine

I have a picture of the poet Robert Lowell above my desk. For a relatively dour writer, he looks pretty manic and he's on his way to going crazy, a condition he said he knew because, "I start to fall in love with everyone." If you were lucky enough to say, become his second wife, you'd get your letters to him parsed out into poems and published in a book of his. This is the risk that anyone involved with a writer incurs -- seeing themselves in the mirror of someone else's words, trapped in a hell or heaven not of your own making. But aren't we all? Late in his life, Lowell was medicated with lithium and stopped his wild ways with women. To his horror, he realized that all his romantic drama could have been cured, were in fact illness, not just dazzling narcissism played out for all to see.

But I suppose our illness can define us as much as anything else, that a mad splendor is as real as ordinary time. Enclosed in afternoons of wine and smoke, we see as if through stained glass, the beautiful hopes of our minutes pass away, minutes on a mounted clock. I once visited a house that had more than fifty clocks in the living room, all a little off. You kind of knew where you were in the day, never exactly. But I suppose that wasn't the point. The clocks sounded like a person breathing, a steady beat of time leaking away like the light at the end of a day that you thought would never fade.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
"The only reason time exists is so that everything doesn't happen all at once." Albert Einstein

Cocktail Hour
Drinking poetry suggestion: For The Union Dead Robert Lowell

Maledictions and Benedictions
Happy Friday!


Jay Gatsby said...

Sorry about the clock.

Carl Sagan said...

Einstein was never sucked into a Black Hole.

Brian in Mpls said...

I have been in more then a few prisons I have loved.

Pythia3 said...

Happy New Year, Michelle.
I am sorry I haven't been a loyal reader these past three weeks . . .but I will catch up! Believe me.
I have not had a second of alone time lately. Family, most of all!
But one thing I've learned for sure - nothing lasts forever. So, I go with the flow for the most part. Things will even out soon and I'll have my time back.
Hope you had a beautiful New year.

Pythia3 said...

PS - LOVE the photo!

Anonymous said...

Goodbye Michelle. Good luck. Today I delete your url from my feedreader. The reason: I have enough blogs I visit where the owners reciprocate and I have no real reason to read a blog where the owner maintains popularity through short skirts and blank poses.

Charles Gramlich said...

"Enclosed in afternoons of wine and smoke, we see as if through stained glass, the beautiful hopes of our minutes pass away, minutes on a mounted clock."

Now that is a beautiful sentence. I give you the "I wish I'd written that" award. Of course, said award doesn't come with anything. But it's still a great line.

Lana Gramlich said...

I was never so depressed as when I really listened to the lyrics of Pink Floyd's "Time." Douglas Adams doesn't help much, either, but he's worth a laugh about it, anyway; "Time is an illusion--lunchime doubly so."

the walking man said...

Only them that think they are sane are crazy, the rest of us just know it. Time measured in heartbeats of lunacy is only for the strong, the little dogs get it medicated out of them.



Anonymous said...

My God WM, how many more BS posts are you gonna sign my name to?

the walking man said...

Anonymous, Fuck you, my name is mark not anonymous. I may not be a good enough writer or a great thinker such as yourself to hold an audience but there is a difference if we share a name I use mine both of which The Walking Man and mark were given me for legitimate reasons. I am so sorry for you that your daddy named you anonymous. I just wonder if your middle name is asshole?



now I have to keep pushing publish until I get an easy word verification. fifth shot not bad

taxitalk said...

there is nothing wrong with medicine unless of course it makes you fat