Lenore saw a puddle this afternoon, and of course waded right in and stuck her nose in the mud. She seemed startled by her reflection and studied it carefully for some time, before wagging her tail and digging out a wet leaf, which she ate with great
gusto. Lenore appreciates life.
The controversial potholder. Like a rescue dog?
Every afternoon I ask Maria if she has a new candidate for the Daily Potholder, and today, she said she had a strange potholder, a weird one. She had mixed two colors that don’t go together, she said, pink and green, but liked the effect, sort of strange and a bit conversial she said. What did I think? Well, I know better than to answer a question like that honestly, especially to an artist of Sicilian extraction, but I did and I said I sort of thought this potholder was weird, perhaps a bit ugly, the green a little bilious.
Clearly, that was a mistake. She explained the inner beauty of the potholder and told me my comment made her feel protective of it, and bad for it. I told her it sounded like a rescue dog. Things didn’t go well from there.
In any case, I had a good time photographing this strange potholder. Maria is very fond of it, and what do I know?
One of the many things I did not like about living in so much fear and confusion was the sense that I had lost myself. I did not really understand why I was doing what I was doing. I was hiding my fear in other people, and in much chaos and confusion. I was putting a lot of thing between the fear and me.
Fear wants a place to go and makes you hide, and takes on a life of its own, and you can be living for it in a flash, and never even know it. And you can get lost in it.
For the past few years, I have been working hard to get my life back, and get myself back. Some days I am close, and in some ways I know that I will never completely get there, and in some sense I know that I can get there some of the time. I don’t really know how much.
I see it as a powerful and simple equation. The less I live in fear, the more of my life I can live. This morning, I got up and walked with the dogs, and talked to Maria, and I had this powerful sensation that I was getting myself back. It was an overwhelming sensation. I listened to the rustling leaves, and saw the yellow and blue sky emerge overhead, and nodded to the Gods of the morning, and I said to myself, I was lost. Perhaps I can be found.
Walks take longer these days as Rose is being turned into a play fiend by Lenore, the Love Dog. They tear back and forth and Rose tries to herd Lenore, who plows through and over here. Rose seems to be having almost as much fun with Lenore as she did with sheep.
