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Posted: **Wed Jun 03, 2009 4:21 pm**

Jack.. that's interesting what you say about Cate's dock and our reflections in the water, especially since I just shot some 16mm film footage (for a trailer for fundraising purposes) and it's of a woman.. she's wearing a long red velvet dress and walking on this bright new spring moss at the edge of a pond.. I had my D.P. film her reflection.. and actually.. I did a shot just as you described.. a shot of her standing on the edge of the water with her entire reflection in the water below.. It's to draw on the watery unconscious.. which I guess is what you picked up on with my "basement" comment (though hopefully we don't have a water problem down there)...

.. oh, and speaking of my riding off in all directions when I first started posting here, and whether I'm tired yet -- Yes. I did tire.. but I think I found more of a balance, since my multi-tiered story on the "Sign" thread was quite an undertaking, and I really don't have that sort of time at the moment.. I work out of my studio here, where I live and where my computer is.. so it's very often tempting to come here and procrastinate.. and so I've had to learn to be far more disciplined... Still, I have my frivolous moments..

.. anyway, your false humility may well be wearing thin, but you made me laugh with that.. so your humor is intact..

.. I also don't know what we'll find in the basement.. it's a bit ominous sounding.. so.. I guess we'll see what comes up, as it were.. (from out of the depths)...

fondly,
v i o l e t (flower)

Posted: **Wed Jun 03, 2009 4:43 pm**

Violet wrote:.. I also don't know what we'll find in the basement.. it's a bit ominous sounding.. so.. I guess we'll see what comes up, as it were.. (from out of the depths)...

Fine with me Violet. I have no desire to see a violet upside down.

Posted: **Fri Jun 05, 2009 3:27 am**

I hestitate to intrude on this interesting thread... but want to add to the responses to Menzie01's question:

What's that A** hole? Can you explain it further?

An A**hole performs a very necessary function, for which it is rewarded by being treated as untouchable, unlovable, unspeakable...un... un...

Yet life without an A**hole would be very uncomfortable (even unthinkable). He deserves a better rap.

Posted: **Fri Jun 05, 2009 6:59 am**

I.F., I would like to at least thank you (if not, well, that other entity to which you referred) for also doing the thankless job of pointing out that other thankless job, as it were. Anyway, being imaginary 'n all, it's probably easier for you to take on these more thankless tasks.. although I'm not exactly sure why I think that..

J A C K : .. I thought I'd start on our basement.. As this idea of the watery unconscious has come up in relation to our basement location, I thought I'd re-post one of the first poems I ever posted here, as it feels to be about that watery place of memory and dreams.. I'm wondering too if these "basement" poems should be written in some lovely antiquated scrawl (the way people used to know how to do when penmanship was a very serious subject at school).. and we could keep these brittle yellowed pages locked up in a drawer down there for someone to some day come upon.. which is sort of how these threads work, in any event.. I mean.. you never know what you're going to find in the deep (unconscious) recesses of these threads of ours.. so it's to say we're just elaborating on that idea, maybe..

.. anyway, here goes..

To my longing for you both

I’m thinking of those kindnesses
that come as small Trojan horses; the
deception itself a testament to
that which needed rerouting;
suppressing

if there were no wounded here,
if all that was spoken were true,
then there’d be no need for any of this,
and the dead would rest easy

I long for you. I long for you
both. in dreams

I fall deeply
into a timeless enmeshment

all wounds emerging
to recombine in a fervent
wished for healing;
a deep deep suffering;
an oceanic grieving

I awake sometimes, at
the sound of my own
crying

lying quietly,
in a dismal after dream.

in a moment, I might
fall asleep again

too soon for
conscious reflection

or to save myself
from the drowning

where again
the heart’s dark bodies
reabsorb each other’s
grief.

ii.

Sun comes on summer days,
wind in the early spring,
time, the insightful say,
doesn’t heal all wounds

this
I dedicate to my longing, to my
longing for you both.

v i o l e t, 2003

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