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September 3rd, 2009
06:11 pm - What Matters Most
Some good conversations have come up after the post I made just before this one and I kept thinking of the perfect Bukowski line [and subsequent book title] ‘What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.’ This is as good of a mantra as you could have, I’d imagine, and I think that it’s sort of been ringing louder and louder as I’ve been thinking about the whole art thing. And it’s not just art but it’s literature too and, most importantly, it’s about life in general and as a whole.
Everybody has their own fires to walk through and what’s hard to you might be easy for me. What’s hot to me might be breezy for you. What’s art to you might be crap to me and what’s good solid work to me might be kid scribbles to someone else. I mean, really, I can’t hardly navigate through until the end of some of Allen Ginsburg’s writings. And I know plenty of people that find Salinger more ponderous than poetic. It’s all subjective, of course. And all we can do is just do our very best work and leave it at that.
But, in the interest of being contrary and while we’re on the subject of Bukowski, I cannot understand how anyone could ever just simply dismiss Bukowski as being little more than a misogynistic drunk. Have you ever really read any of his work or is that just some point of view you learned to express is your Womyn’s Writing Workshop?
[Why does all of this stuff always get me so goddam excited anyway? Sorry. Sort of.]
Originally published at [Posted over at smartwentcrazy.com/journal.]. You can comment here or there.
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July 27th, 2009
04:05 am - Obituary
I had always sort of considered what I’d like to have written on my headstone when I am dead. It’s a big thing to consider and I have always refrained from having any text tattooed on my body after all of these years because I can’t quite come up with something perfect enough. Although I suppose that with a tombstone it might not matter as much since a tattoo is something you have to live with for a while and a tombstone is something that you get to make other people live with.
Charles Bukowski always was one of my favorites as far as epitaphs were concerned. His just says, “Don’t Try.” It beats hell out of Keats’ any day. And another favorite is the one that Bernoulli chose for himself and was a nice play on his Miracle Spirals as well as his belief in reincarnation. It reads, “Eadem mutata resurgo” which is translated from Latin to mean, “Though changed I shall arise the same.”And how can you not love Royal Tennenbaum’s inscription? [Go see it if you haven't.]
What I have so far would be nice to use on opposing sides of the thing and that way, depending on how you felt about me when I was alive, you can choose to be reminded of the good or the bad.
This is all of it so far:
A quiet man, not given to law, quarrel or wrangling, not vitious, but pleasant, neat and spruce, loving mirth in his words and actions, clean in apparel, rather drinking much than gluttonous, prone to venery, often entangled in love-matters, zealous in his affections, musical, delighting in baths and all honest merry meetings, or masks and stage-plays; easy of belief, and not given to labour or taking any pains, a company-keeper, cheerful, nothing mistrustful, a right virtuous man, often had in some jealousy, yet no cause for it.
Or, on the other side of things is this bit:
The man was riotous, expensive, wholly given to looseness and lewd companies of women, not regarding his reputation, coveting unlawful beds, incestuous, an adulterer; fanatical, a mere skip-jack, of no faith, no repute, no credit; a goldbricker, chronic malcontent, spending his means in alehouses, taverns, and amongst scandalous, loose people; a mean lazy companion, careless in the emotions of others and not careful of the things of this life or anything religious; a mere atheist and an unnatural man.
This is adapted from a 17th Century book by William Lilly called Christian Astrology. It’s somehow supposed to be how the planet Venus can change people depending on where it was when a person was born or something. And I have no idea why I was even reading that in the first place.
[I'll keep you posted on the developments and the final edits.]
Originally published at [Posted over at smartwentcrazy.com/journal.]. You can comment here or there.
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June 9th, 2003
12:10 am - [A List Of Wishes.]
I wish...
...my dreams were happier.
...I could play musical instruments.
...you could understand me better.
...my cat could talk.
...I was a Highlander so I could live forever and cut off peoples heads.
...I could make you smile.
...things hadn't happened the way they did.
...I could feel in love without actually being in love.
...I knew more jokes and card tricks.
...I had more silver rings.
...I never kissed that woman.
...I never started.
...I had a baby.
...I felt better about myself.
...I could find the right one.
...I lived on a desert island.
...I was on stage reading to her.
...you were nicer to me.
...I was famous for doing nothing.
...you knew my heart.
...I had thirty minutes alone with you.
...I could drink coffee all year round.
...we could do away with money and switch back to beads and shells.
...everyone kissed like her.
...you would take me seriously.
...I could put all of my old girlfriends into a room and let them kill each other.
...I had more tattoos.
...Gustav Klimt was in my kitchen.
...I didn't know so much.
...I didn't know so little.
...you could tell me what you think.
...I could afford to wait around.
...I never hurt you.
...I could rip your head off.
...I could be a macho guy and drink Budweiser and watch Baywatch and beat my woman.
...you realized that I am a genius all of the time.
...I could do something to help.
...I could ride out the storm.
...California would sink into the ocean.
...I had a lifetime supply of bourbon.
...I didn't speak English.
...I could get my act together.
...I could fly.
...I knew Lou Reed.
...I gave you butterflies.
...UFO's would take me away.
...I could tell you the truth.
...I listened more closely.
...I could believe what you say.
...I had more time.
...I had a second chance.
...I had a third chance.
...television offered something good.
...I wasn't so shy.
...my life had background music.
...you knew my art.
...it was all worthwhile.
...I didn't feel so crazy all of the time.
...I was in Rhode Island.
...I had a motorcycle.
...I had a home.
...you were not so scared.
...I had the patience of Job.
...you would ask me questions.
...Mick Jagger was my friend.
...I understood my family.
...my family understood me.
...there were no speed limits.
...you could really look at my paintings.
...I wasn't so afraid of drowning.
...I could talk to animals.
...I didn't always fall in love with whores and crazy women.
...she never told me his name.
...I could sing like an angel.
...I had driven the car instead.
...you knew what I meant by that.
...you would pay attention to details.
...I could get drunk with Kerouac and Bukowski.
...we could throw out our digital watches and switch to sundials.
...I didn't smoke my friends down to the filter.
...I had more strength.
...you could let yourself be happy.
...you had a better childhood.
...I was more handsome than charming.
...you wouldn't shut me out.
...I was a better judge of character.
...I didn't contradict myself so often.
...my brain could catch up to my heart.
...I didn't fall in love so easily.
...Northern Exposure was on all day.
...I could be there with you.
...we could pretend to be married and spend the night together.
...I never read that book.
...you felt like I do right now.
...I was in a circus.
...I had J.D.Salinger's home phone number.
...I never sent that letter.
...I had a new source.
...I made a different decision.
...I never saw her in that dress.
...I had a voodoo doll.
...the weather was autumn always.
...I was a cartoon.
...I cared about the environment.
...I could keep more reasonable hours.
...I had the courage to drink myself to death.
...words were not as important to me.
...I didn't analyze the hell out of everything.
...you had some idea what it's like.
...I could run away.
...I could stop shaking when she is naked under me.
...she didn't hate me so damned much.
...she wasn't as beautiful as she is.
...I knew what I did wrong.
...her ankles were on my shoulders.
...I didn't know where she has been sleeping.
...you knew exactly how strong my back is.
...I could make a perfect woman like they did in Weird Science.
...I had the nerve to shave off all my hair.
...my taste wasn't so expensive.
...I never had to pay.
...the consequences weren't so bad.
...Love Potion #9 really existed.
...the emotions didn't run so deep.
...I didn't need the drama so badly.
...I could boldly go where no man has gone before.
...I could utilize my talent.
...I would do something monstrous before I die.
...I didn't have so many myths attached to me.
...I could tell you the real story.
...you didn't feel so badly about yourself.
...I did not have a romantic bone in my body.
...I wasn't so flop-hearted.
...I had William Burroughs around to type for me.
...I could drive forever.
...I could share an absinthe with Vincent.
...I knew Basquiat.
...she didn't look so sexy when she was mad at me.
...we could stop playing all of these ridiculous games.
...I had just one original thought.
...I could stop looking for approval and fishing for compliments.
...I could forget what she smells like.
...I wasn't such a sham.
...I would force myself to surrender.
...God was on Larry King.
...God was enough.
...I wasn't so obvious.
...I knew how to play mahjongg.
...I was a household name.
...I knew when to quit.
...I could snap my fingers and make it all true.
The End. [I wish.]
Current Mood: Drowning not waving
Current Music: St. Germain - Tourist
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