I spent some time on the phone earlier talking to Ray. He has been so supportive about my show. He suggested I go into the gallery to test the sculpture stands for stability. He is concerned that somebody will lean on one and tip it over. I wonder if the gallery might have Museum Wax to stick things down. As usual Ray takes a dim view of most arty types, considering them to be just as ignorant and thoughtless as the general population. He will be at the opening and guarding the work from the ravening hoards of philistines.
At times, I wish we had worked out, because I do so enjoy his wit. I miss having him around. Yet when I think back on that last year together, his presence had such a negative influence on me. I was becoming so dependent on him for all the wrong reasons and he was pushing me away in really destructive ways. We are much better off now just being friends. I did love him though and he sure cared for me but we were so ill-matched - a rolling stone and a nester, not good. The stone kept returning to the nest to rest and feed but then move on. Each time he left the nest a cold blast of air blew in to damp down my warmth. I would close the nest to regenerate some warmth, and then invite him back in to repeat the process. Insanity is sometimes defined as "a state of repeating the same thing and expecting different outcomes".
I should have listened more carefully the night he said "this just doesn't feel right". Instead of taking it as a challenge to fix things so it would feel right, I should have realized he was speaking from a deeper philosophical level. Claire the fixer, would make it right. Ray the Buddhist, was seeing the impossibility of our attachment. He left for Deep River in part, to break the attachment.
His going was so important to us both. It gave me a chance to refocus on myself, and it gave him back the detachment that keeps him centered. Now we are friends in an uncomplicated way. I was going to say a simple way, but there will never be anything simple about Ray or me.
So on Monday I pick him up around 10:30, we come here to load the car and take my stuff to the gallery. He will bring his good eyes to the planning and hanging of my show. We have a very similar aesthetic and I trust his experience. We'll probably eat supper together and each go home. It's much nicer this way.
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About Me
- kingmisha
- I'm bigger than a pile of breadboxes, but smaller than a Sherman tank. I'm overeducated, underpaid but very content with my life. I have loved infrequently but intensely. I dated a poet, divorced a Dean, had an affair with a jazz pianist, was engaged to a diplomat, and widowed by my child's father. The men in my life were all very special. Not all grand passions but much loved in their time: Leonard Cohen, Alfred Pinsky, Billy Horn, Wendell Goodin, and Elliot Hirschman. Thanks for the memories... I'm a lapsed artist which doesn't really trouble me because I'm a very successful parent. I lacked the requisite conceit to persevere as an artist. I just couldn't make myself believe that my art came before my child. The world really doesn't need another sculptor (even a good one), but it does need another good human being. It can use all the good human beings we can turn out. I present Mambolica as my evidence so judge for yourselves.