Monday, May 9, 2011
THAT SILENCE YOU HEAR IS ME BEING A GENTLEMAN
…I have a new poem, "Old Pictures" up at The Camel Saloon and a micro, "Elsewhere" at Eunoia Review.
Both are also here under "Words in Print."
…Happy times. My story, “Mockingbird” was listed as one of the 50 best stories of 2010 at Wigleaf. Steve Himmer, from Necessary Fiction, really pushed me on that piece, which is rare for a publisher, which speaks volumes about the kind of guy Steve is, and it ended up being a way better story than what I’d originally written. Even the title is different (“Bukowski At Breakfast” was the first one.)
…In the last few days I have seen two movies by myself. I never go to movies by myself, but I think I will start doing that more often. It isn't lonely at all! I rather liked it actually, and had a good time. "Win Win" with Paul Giamatti and Amy Ryan was wonderful. I love those little indie films that are unique in fun, quirky ways. Go see it.
But if you can only see one film, see this: "The Beaver." It punched me in the face, knocked me down and then beat the shit out of me. I can't stop thinking about it. You may have harsh feelings about Mel Gibson, for which I can understand. You may not especially like Jody Foster (I don’t especially either) but she was brilliant. Everyone was. It's sad that Mel's antics are going to debilitate this movie. Great films like this are so rare anymore. Instead we get The Green Hornet/Pirates of the Caribbean/Fantastic Four/Narnia blah blah blah.
Guilty pleasures are okay, but when they become sustenance, oh boy, aren't we in trouble? Film is art. Art is life.
…I have been listening to a lot of Fleet Foxes. And Bowie, Carolina Liar, Bright Eyes and today the Brothers Gibb, “Spirits Having Flown.” The last minute and a half of “Reaching Out” has the most preposterous falsetto ever. It’s the closest thing to an oral orgasm you’ll ever have. Really.
…We used to have a gold sofa in the house where I grew up. It was nubby and two seated. It had tan wooden paddles on the sides that you could push down and when you did the bottom flap by your ankles would lift up your legs and your spine would sort of ratchet backward.
It was a love seat.
A gold love seat.
That particular piece of furniture played a big part in my youth. That piece of furniture, consequently, shows up in much of my writing. It’s in “Old Pictures.”
I often imagine dousing the love seat with kerosene and lighting it on fire.
I sure wish someone would.
…It rains a lot where I live. Consequently, when the sun makes an appearance, things are lush and verdant. Moss cuffs the tree limbs and it looks radioactive. So pretty. I love the glowing green color. The roadsides look like a place The Hulk would be sulking in. The Hulk or Shrek.
…Did I tell you the beavers took down four small trees from my front yard? Yep. I didn’t like those trees anyway, so the toothsome group did me a favor. Now, the stumps look like sharp stakes sticking out of the ground, like something you’d use to slay a vampire. Kind of amazing, those water creatures.
…Sometimes I wish I could play piano. If I could, I’d write you the prettiest songs. They’d make you feel as special as you should be feeling about yourself. You’d blush and maybe weep a little. The songs would tell the world that you are fantastic and they should pay better attention.
…Today I need to write a story having to do with "Travel" for a themed issue of Pure Slush. Matt Potter asked me to send him something. So far I’ve got this: “I was on the train because I had to kill a man.” I haven’t figured out why the narrator has to kill a guy or why the doomed dude deserves a killing, but I’ll get to that momentarily.
…On a Monday, at the start of a new week, I like these things:
"I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain." ~ Catherine Breillat
"It takes courage to be a nobody." JD Salinger
"Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me, I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way and some of the roads weren't paved." -- Will Rogers
"I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes--and the stars through his soul." Victor Hugo