Saturday, April 18, 2009

rain, mist, grayness, and a cool breeze passing through, and i'm not sure where it's going or when it will become deadly hot. it seems colors can actually seem brighter in this kind of grayness, maybe because i see stuff with the "saturation" icon in mind, and see the brightness of the pop-art any given spring blossom would make. there are tons of shades around, orange trees framed by red and pink ones, violet ones up against evergreens, and i occasionally grab one on the camera and make pop-art out of it, but more often, i just see the virtual saturation button doing its thing to my vision as i walk.

an interfaith earth day gathering attracted a number of speakers of different faiths, sufi, hindi, pagan, catholic, unitarian, and i was the speaker for quakers- i, that is, and my young son, who took the opportunity to give the crowd some comic relief and show them what cute can look like when it has the chance. traffic sped by the main street of this small town, and we eventually left, after he'd wandered a bit, found a little of what downtown has to offer. tulips abut the train-man statue, but i'd forgotten the camera, or there would be more pop art here too. lots of stuff that i see every day, i want to make into pop-art- the downtown, the train-man, the park, the stunning trees up against what's left of old stately homes. symbols of the place are good, and anything train...the depot, up against the main street, that kind of stuff. boxcars, cafe, liquor store, i want it all. the library was dedicated the other day (see photo below), and i felt like saying, what this place needs is some pop-art, and just giving it over, but i didn't have it together, too much going on. i have my dreams, have my ticket to dr, have my docket full (more subbing coming, more over-full weeks, less blogging, i'm afraid)- the pop art is an instant, short-time, salve for a busy soul.

musically, i did get one interesting gig in, this one in front of fourth-graders, and i told them about the time one guy came into my class and played a cello- that day changed my life, that's one favor, if i return it a million times, i'll still be glad to return it again. then i played my banjo train song, and at one moment their clapping was almost entirely out-of-rhythm with my playing, but there wasn't much i could do about it, so i relaxed, finished the song, and let them come 'round, eventually feel what it was like, when they were in time. felt like saying- a train doesn't care how you run, it isn't going to change its speed. overall i felt comfortable though- nervous, as usual, as young kids are a tough audience, yet also grateful- to even be playing in front of them, to be able to make that kind of music,is a kind of miracle. some kids held rapt attention, others literally fell asleep, not into it. that's kids for ya.

my own, doing fine, growing like weeds, and i'm spending time with them, which i like. lots of other things going by the wayside, but i'm at least all over the little ones. the bigger ones, pounding me at risk- or at chess, as the case may be, but what can ya do? they go their own way, and they're less tired than i am.

but life being what it is, busy, almost frantic, i'm about to turn 55. i feel like saying, yes, there are signs all over the interstate, celebrating by birthday, they have 55 all over them, can't read the fine print any more so well, so i assume the rest of the sign says, keep on cruising, don't exit yet. or maybe they say, no limit. or, smile, you're on candid camera. you're on the downhill slide toward sixty. saturate; sharpen, publish.

the one thing i'm not doing, writing the novel, writing the stories, or even packaging them, making a webpage, or putting them on kindle. it's just not happening. time slips by, i sit here, playing on facebook or risk, or the bog, and keel over, evenings, even after a big cup of coffee. fall asleep, even as i type, while i grade, or even before i get to it. i need another round of simplify simplify, get the junk e-mails out of my life, for example, or maybe combine some of my efforts, pop art & teaching for example. it's a fast world, time is all ya got, and i'm having less & less of it as life goes on. but, ya know, i'm enjoying it anyway; i've got a good world around me. as i stood in the center of my town, trains on one side, traffic on the other, a little guy dancing at my feet, i thought, here i am, here's quakerism, it's not such a bad match. the other religions were represented; they implored us to notice all they were doing, and how their path to the divine glowed and reflected. the amtrak came by, made noise, and left; trucks turned the corner behind us; the little guy found rocks, batteries and an antenna in the bushes and found some people he knew. we left the diaper bag, with shorts and some water, behind, accidentally, but we're sure to get it back, since everyone knew us, and we'll see some of them tomorrow.

2 Comments:

Anonymous bruce said...

When they lowered all the highway speed limits to 55, it was in the 1970's, and was prompted by an oil crisis. Since I hadn't yet been past 55 myself, the cosmic significance of it all escaped me.

Some signs were posted saying,
55 MPH
It's not just the law
It's a good idea

Then I saw a bumper sticker saying,
95 MPH
It's not the law
It's just a good idea

I'll always remember that one.

4:25 PM  
Blogger Aureliano987 said...

daddio, i love your posts, always, except that they make me miss you and the boyos terribly. you're right, my life is busy too but I don't feel very tired :) running at 95 mph. I'm sure someday it will catch up to me.

playing your banjo for us when we were kids sure had an influence on me! i hope you keep doing it; i bet those kids loved it. i'm trying to write my own blog but its very sporadic- you should go there, and comment, because knowing there are people who listen in inspires me to write more

6:02 PM  

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