Thursday, April 21, 2011
Beauty From Ashes
Being from Mineral Wells, I think about the fires burning over Possum Kingdom Lake and worry. I spent many a summer at PK, lying around on its shore, pretending I was at a spa and enjoying a mud bath treatment. I put myself in New York City where the mud would be pure and snakes wouldn't be hanging off the trees, but there I was, in Possum Kingdom, not so far from Hell's Gate, a couple of rock cliffs that come out of the water and served as the ultimate truth or dare for people tanked up enough to think it was a good idea to jump off them.
When people remember childhood, they often cast back to the simplicity of it, which does not mesh with my experience at all. Childhood means longing and loneliness and a certain kind of painful clarity that fades with age. But I also know what they mean -- I never thought about disasters except the ones I saw, never thought about the snakes even as I was surrounded by them. I wonder about the snakes and where they go when they are driven out by smoke or if smoke even bothers them. Like me, they enjoy the night when everything fades from view and the past seems to haunt the present, a specter that can never be banished, only viewed through a lens darkly.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"I'm out there doing the best that I can, My lip is cut and I'm still playing." Miles Davis
Kudos to the latest episode of United States of Tara -- a truly haunting ending, beautifully done.
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Thursday! And many happy birthday wishes to my dear friend Nick and also the great Iggy Pop!