Saturday, July 22, 2006

it’s noon and I want to know it.. briefly.. the trash is full.. and a tenor is visiting next door, sings, “pass the salt, por favori,” to which children squeal. got my license back in the mail with a receipt that looks like I just bought a carton of eggs, cat litter and bananas, except it says, “payment type—guilty.”

yesterday.. errand to the workplace on a day off.. staying unseen, get in a run, a snack with J at the Chicago Diner—note: fresh carrot-ginger juice, drink more of—presenting gifts marking the anniversary. Happy 6th! In honor of…how about some knife skills? Plus a class in hollandaise, lemon cake and curd. continued gastronomy later for a late, long meal at the italian restaurant where one time a bottle of red wine was uncorked all over my wedfrock was no stress or matter.. something to remember the day by, I’d thought… long wait at the bar in spite of reservations gave chance for chats with strangers from SoCal, a volunteer med team following a beach volleyball tournament presently in town. they’re glad for our 6 years and that Chicago isn’t too cold or hot. part of dinner became gratis from the manager because we had waited without being assy, so we added a few courses, including crème brulee and cognac like we never… it was later remarked that “we supped well”.. long walk home at midnight, post-rain 70 degrees. encountered out of place throng upon throng- had originally thought- what evacuees of the Gay Games are these? (since that’s been making crowds around us the past week).. turns out to be post-Bon-Jovi-goers Soldier Field let out.. became another interesting endeavor upstream.

just past noon today and walking toward a big fountain to look at people for a while.. as an aside, two boys are chasing each other across a stretch of lawn. Boy A chases Boy B until he hooks a foot in front of Boy B, sending him down. Boy A proceeds in kicking Boy B in the stomach. since I am walking, a hedge takes out my view of Boy B and I can only see the body of Boy A torquing with continued kicks. a small rat runs in front of me and into the obfuscating hedge where things are left off unceremoniously.

a sit, a walk, a bottle of water, another walk, another sit later, I am in my favorite spot since 1994 of fountains and low hanging, thorny trees on the AIC’s southern face. the light is always interesting on the ground beneath these trees, and it’s particularly good today. “It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” says a man in a cowboy hat as he hands me a leaflet about the price of my sins. I pretend not to speak English, but accept the leaflet anyway. he seems pleased/goes away. twelve students in a line with easels just drew this scene. the light is interesting today. a cardinal, but drab- a female- clips back and forth.. above a woman who works a kinetic pose of fun for someone with a camera.. swinging arms in slow-motion. people fascinate the shit out of me lately. J’s gotten extremely adept at pal'ing quickly with strangers. like after thursday night’s reading, all poets adjourned to the woodlawn pub and after a time I found him missing.. found him at the bar with another chap.. I’m greeted, “oh hi honey, this is eric. we were just talking about the holocaust.”

there’s the male cardinal now. somehow his brilliance is overtaken by the sunlight acting on the leaves. now someone is taking pictures of the twelve students drawing this scene. sometimes, who doesn’t need a break from reflexivity? so I pick at a little mandelstam, gide.

in the museum.. I’m here to see the Harry Callahan show.. even more exquisite than his prints is the one film he ever made, a 9 minute, 16 mm, black and white, silent montage called “Motions.” I’ll have to return to that. on my way out, a docent sounds abrasively- “he’s not telling us what to see, but how to see!”- in front of a monet waterlily.


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