Saturday, 31 March 2012

notarize the thighs

Probably should not enter here, a familiar yet faraway voice offers. The voice triggers the visual. A question mark which appears like clockwork (after the voice), like a music applications italicized version suggesting living motion or audible quality conveyed via italics. The image of a question mark in lights and stripes in motion like a barber shop's shingle, barber shop's cylinder of red, white, blue and light.

The aforementioned visual appears before her eyes, our young single white female. She faced the intensity of the light and felt the uncensored whole of what emanated. She opened up to the real, which in turn dropped on her in direct correspondence to the level of her openness, the very real. When real became very real, her eyes opened ever more, from almond shape to marble, it the ameliorated states.

Real and animated against the terrain in front of her. She could dissociate from her environment without losing any connect. Widescreen landscape between her long unpainted lashes. She watches as it spirals, grows, then shrinks away. The question mark is really a loose rendition: and becomes less finite and more lifelike as it swells out and moves gingerly yet with cautious expansiveness through her wide eyed blue ice sky twilight desert land. Crisp and sharp picture, without humidity. This was and is and will be the only visual she associated with this particular voice. Who the hell knows why.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) she does not have time to figure it out, decipher its meaning or relevance to her, and she had neither interest or money to pay some PI or psychiatrist or cinematographer or surveyor to do the work for her.

The thought hardly crossed her mind to hire anyone ever to do anything for her. She never had and probably never would. Very DIY by nature. She inherently disagreed with the tax system, though she paid into it. She advocated for a system with allowances for payment by not only checking accounts and money orders, but payment by community service hours. The dollar bill, though convenient and necessary in many situations she faced, on the macro level she saw how money exchange in the capitalist sytem robbed people of opportunities to put the mind and body and spirit into play.

Which to her was the marrow of life blood.
to be continued...