The paper has been signed. Sometime today if the Judge is willing to take care of the last of this years business, the legal papers will be stamped, and the marriage will be over.
It was over in heart over a long time ago. To that I had surrendered and accepted. The surface level of appreciation was there, loyal & bold in statement. But the actions long since vanished, and the level of affection was a shallow pool of empty gestures. In business our relationship continued & thrived in different & more cooperative ways. At home the relationship shifted to one of total disproportions. As if the same man was unaware of the same woman in two locations. He had compartmentalized the activities and I being the adaptable being had readily obliged.
At the studio & gallery where I worked every day I was his wonderful wife. The woman that made all these things possible, at home I was the failing flawed house wife that neglected all her duties all day long & bothered him by making noise when he come home each day to lie down & relax after a hard days painting. It was just over a year ago when I concluded that I love the artist but not the husband. I probably would have been quite happy to have worked for him, as long as I came home alone to my home. But at my home was this man, always relaxing, always hungry, always wanting entertainment & company.
Unaware of the daily chores of living. Unaware of where all the fixings of the home came from. Unaware of mans basic need to participate in life, as the days of slavery were over. We had no maid or missy to cook, clean, wash wax and whisk the world into order.
There is much to be said for talent. When you can preform magic on canvas the way the painter did, you can part the waters of obstacles that others would never achieve. To have the power of the pen to scribble on a napkin & watch someone walk away with a frame able treasure. Very few people possess that power. Caught under the spell as I was for over a decade, the many frame able works soon offer hollow gratitude and no measure of compensation for an empty world of appreciation.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Saved from the wreckage
I was on my way home from the Pawn shop & I flipped my car. Wasn't being recklace or even risque. Infact I was driving my son & friend home after a wonderful day of christmas shopping. The van was filled to capacity. We had gone wild spending. Visited 3 thrift stores, I let the boys buy what ever they wanted. They debated each piece with curious reasoning. The Christmas groceries were on board. Back filled with recycling. To think of all these things suddenly taken & tranisitioned for a moment into a Kaladiscope of confusion & smashed into a mountain.
I live on one of the most tretcherous stretches of mountain roads in the southwest. It raps 14 miles over the summit & to the valley beyond. 189 bends total. I think I chose the best bend. It was not down it was up the mountain where there are jutting rock face of 500 ft of shear cliffs offers no comforting thoughts. I have thought about them many times in the 13 years I have lived here. Vividly when I drove my 70 yr old mother who gasped and gripped the inside of the car as if she was already falling. In the years I have pass endless wreaks. Heard of cars discovered years later & feared the thoughts.
Where I lost it & found the most miraculous intervention was in the slow curvy bend of the lower gulch where the canyon opens up into the valley.
But I digress. I was on my home from the Pawn shop. Not an extra penny to my name I had resorted to my last option. Pawning my Grandfathers watch chain. Not able to put my hand on it I or any other extra money, I was beginning to have a continious lurking thought about my debt & a meager Christmas. On Monday I woke up & just knew where to look, there was the watch chain. I am no stranger to the man at the counter. I have known him for 10 years. In better days I had aquired gold with any extra money, knowing in solid form that it would linger longer than in my bank account.
Did I mention that I anticipated the car crash. I kept having thoughts about the wheels, and was anxious about the Christmas day drive to Winslow through the mountains.
My intention is to trust my instincts more. Guess today I begin that journey again, with different faith & renewed awakening. Realizing that my time in this existance is temporary, and that every moment is the gift. That if I have a thought, a specific thought more than once I should pay attention.
We went to visit the car yesterday. How 3 people managed to survive such a mangled mashed mass of metal is a blooming miracle. I didn't have the permitted time to stand with my jaw dropped & consider that. The employees at the wreakers yard are immune to the stories & emotions attached to each vehicle. So I scavenged and retrieved what I could, every piece more meaningful, because like me they are a token from the wreckage.
I live on one of the most tretcherous stretches of mountain roads in the southwest. It raps 14 miles over the summit & to the valley beyond. 189 bends total. I think I chose the best bend. It was not down it was up the mountain where there are jutting rock face of 500 ft of shear cliffs offers no comforting thoughts. I have thought about them many times in the 13 years I have lived here. Vividly when I drove my 70 yr old mother who gasped and gripped the inside of the car as if she was already falling. In the years I have pass endless wreaks. Heard of cars discovered years later & feared the thoughts.
Where I lost it & found the most miraculous intervention was in the slow curvy bend of the lower gulch where the canyon opens up into the valley.
But I digress. I was on my home from the Pawn shop. Not an extra penny to my name I had resorted to my last option. Pawning my Grandfathers watch chain. Not able to put my hand on it I or any other extra money, I was beginning to have a continious lurking thought about my debt & a meager Christmas. On Monday I woke up & just knew where to look, there was the watch chain. I am no stranger to the man at the counter. I have known him for 10 years. In better days I had aquired gold with any extra money, knowing in solid form that it would linger longer than in my bank account.
Did I mention that I anticipated the car crash. I kept having thoughts about the wheels, and was anxious about the Christmas day drive to Winslow through the mountains.
My intention is to trust my instincts more. Guess today I begin that journey again, with different faith & renewed awakening. Realizing that my time in this existance is temporary, and that every moment is the gift. That if I have a thought, a specific thought more than once I should pay attention.
We went to visit the car yesterday. How 3 people managed to survive such a mangled mashed mass of metal is a blooming miracle. I didn't have the permitted time to stand with my jaw dropped & consider that. The employees at the wreakers yard are immune to the stories & emotions attached to each vehicle. So I scavenged and retrieved what I could, every piece more meaningful, because like me they are a token from the wreckage.
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