Elihu Vedder: Fisherman and Mermaid (1888-1889)

Unaccustomed To So Much Drama

As I was fixing my coffee this morning, a Neighbor cat, Tux, zoomed through the kitchen out of the basement. He’s always nervous when The Muse or I spot him on one of his trespasses. He’s a nice one, well-behaved, and more talented than our cats, neither of which has yet figured out how to use their cat flap door in that back second-floor window. Tux must have watched them hopping onto the deck superstructure where they can walk up the kitchen roof to meow at their flap door for The Muse or I to let them in. We’ve tried everything but have failed to teach them self-reliance. They crouch by the flap, crying for the help we rush to provide, making sure they leave outside that bird they’re holding. Had they learned to operate that door, the upstairs hall would be feathered sometimes. Tux clamored back upstairs and noisily let himself out that flap window while Molly, distracted from her breakfast, followed his progress by staring at the ceiling. Once she heard Tux landing on the deck, she was off outside for her morning’s adventures. Max, upstairs napping, was none the wiser. I took my coffee upstairs to finish creating my Weekly Writing Summary, unaccustomed to so much drama so early in the morning. Life continues in considerable earnestness, even in Heidi’s absence.

Writing Summary
I began my writing week recognizing that I’m a NonProphet. “While I sincerely appreciate the intentions behind the invitations, I'm no prophet, no soothsayer, and nobody's benefactor, so I usually wisely choose to disappear into the wallpaper.”

John Singer Sargent:
Study for the Prophet Obadiah, Boston Public Library
(1892-1894)
"I'm no prophet …"
—
I reported on the foibles I encountered when finally submitting a manuscript for publication in Phantoms. This story proved to be the most popular in this period. “I've learned by painful repetition how to fool the system into producing output that appears to be what I want, but I admit that whatever it produces tends more toward accident than intention.”

Mario Bettini:
Imaginem in cylindrica superficie rectè formatam in plano horizontali ritè de formare.
[To form an image on a cylindrical surface correctly formed in a horizontal plane.(1645 - 1655)
"I continue hunting and pecking …"
—
I began a long-avoided chore, and the world outside started shifting, too, in Chinooking. “A good beginning seems just as successful as any completion.”


Edward Hopper: The Evening Wind (1921)
"Just that breath of Spring reset the calendar."
I watched myself watching myself and Indicting myself for some innocuous infraction. “Sometimes, improvement requires some humbling Indicting, and my internal Puritan might be just the man to make the initially damning accusation. My internal peon must also be perfectly cast to bow his head at a humbled half-mast and commence punishing himself at the merest hint of an indictable accusation.”

Walter Crane: Miss Goody Two Shoes, accused of witchcraft. (1874–76)
" … these episodes make me stronger and more resilient."
—
I told the distinctly unnoteworthy story of my latest infirmity in Shouldering. “Wherever my vulnerability lies—for all I know, it might well be emotional—it holds the cards.”

Henry Fuseli: Thetis Mourning the Body of Achilles (1780)
"Not one of us ever was whole or normal …"
—
I reported my trepidation on the arrival of what used to be my favorite month of the year in FebYouWary “I suspect that things are not really supposed to make sense; that sense must always be a derived value requiring conditioning, a learned response rather than innate.”

Edouard Manet: "La Prune" [Plum Brandy] (1877)

Edouard Manet: "La Prune" [Plum Brandy] photograph, x-radiograph (1948)
" … clearly never really intended to understand anything."
—
This writing week seemed all over the road, the stories weaving as if their author was driving under the influence. Of course, all authors do drive under the influence of something, often their past or their aspired-to future. This week, my past most influenced me. The anniversary of my darling daughter Heidi’s departure reliably gets me. May it never not. I re-realized this week that I truly am a NonProphet and not much of a volunteer. The same Phantoms that have consistently bedeviled me continue their haunting. Fortunately, stuck things tend to eventually unstick themselves; Chinooking remains possible just as soon as I start something first. My self-talk continues Indicting me without really undermining anything. Infirmities influence without necessarily defining anything. They’re features. However dreaded, the day we’d hoped to avoid always arrives. I can Rue that day all I want without really influencing anything. Thank you for following along my weaving path with me. Your presence makes a difference!

©2024 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #iAlogue , #PureSchmaltz