Rembrandt van Rijn: Lieven Willemsz van Coppenol,
Writing Master: The Smaller Plate (c. 1658)

Trading In Authentic Impressions
I feel grateful for my unreliable memory. The Muse corrects me at inconvenient times, often after any possibility of properly correcting the record exists. This frustrates me, but it's exasperation of my own making. I can always make amends or attempt to. Even an inadequate explanation might restore some lost credibility if only to reset my listeners’ expectations that I'm not the most reliable source. Gratefully, my stories don't have to be true to be useful. They might accurately represent my lasting impressions even if they materially misrepresent what happened. Time scales shift. Whatever happens becomes different if seen through any rearview mirror. I'm never entirely sure I'm present at any moment, anyway. I'm reasonably confident that I was effectively absent through the first few Exiled months and I still find reason, now that I've returned, to question just how present I ever become. I distract myself partly by reflecting and attempting to remember things. I cannot simultaneously be there and here, though I don't go anywhere different when I'm in reverie, writing. I shift my attention, which doesn't demand that I watch whatever's playing before my eyes. I remain grateful that I'm so easily distracted I possess the genuine superpower to doze off, particularly when in the middle of some traumatic experience, so I never accurately record what happens. I trade in authentic impressions that might or might not necessarily strongly correlate with what actually happened.

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Weekly Writing Summary

This Exiled Story finally begins telling how we searched for a suitable place to live after we arrived. We searched hesitantly, scared, AlmostRandomly.

Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita): a passion for the possible (1969) Inscriptions and Marks — Signed: l.r., within image: Corita — inscription: l.l., in graphite: 68-69-63 (not assigned): Printed text reads: Playboy: Are you hopeful that we will choose our future? William Sloane Coffin: It's possible, if not probable. If I can be theological for a moment, I think there's a great difference between being optimistic and being hopeful. I am not optimistic but I am hopeful. By this I mean that hope, as opposed to cynicism and despair, is the sole precondition for new and better experiences. Realism demands pessimism but hope demands that we take a dim view of the present because we hold a bright view of the future; and HOPE AROUSES AS NOTHING ELSE CAN AROUSE A PASSION FOR THE POSSIBLE.
"We continued searching AlmostRandomly …"
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This Exiled Story recounts one day's Circling search out of the months I spent searching for a place to live. My process produced failures until it didn't. That is the way house-hunting goes, whether Exiled or no.

Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita): tomorrow the stars (1966) — Inscriptions and Marks — Signed: l.r.: Sister Mary Corita (not assigned): Printed text reads: come alive / Tomorrow, the stars
"The East was looking iffy after Cheverly."
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This Exiled Story, North, finds The Muse and I winnowing through unsuitable neighborhoods to finally identify one that seemed to qualify as feeling like home.

Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita): right (1967) Inscriptions and Marks — Signed: l.r.: Corita (not assigned): Printed text reads: [W]RON[G] WAY / Prophets of boom / and if only we arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us that we must always hold to the difficult, then that which now seems to us the most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful. How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something that wants help from us. Rilke
" … With our attention finally properly focused …"
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This Exiled Story tells how The Muse and I went from being seekers to Finders and how that abrupt transition happened.

George Walker: Leech finders, Plate 35 (1814) Engraver: R. & D. Havell
"We mostly avoided going that way."
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This Exiled Story, TheMove, finds The Muse, The GrandOtter, and I finally moving into what would become the first Villa Vatta Schmaltz East in Takoma Park. Three months after leaving, we were finally landing.

Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita): dip (1967) Inscriptions and Marks: Signed: l.r.: Corita (not assigned): Printed text reads: DIP / IN STOP / Cherries when love on stilts picks its way along gravel paths and reaches the treetops I too in cherries would like to experience cherries as cherries. No longer with arms too short, no longer with arms too short, with ladders on which for ever one rung, just one rung is missing, to live on stewed fruit, on windfalls. Sweet and sweeter, darkening; A red such a blackbirds dream-who here is kissing whom, when love reaches treetops on stilts. Günter Grass
"We would be months getting accustomed to Tacky Park …"
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This Exiled Story tells of a ginned-up Christmas in July, during which The Muse and I open boxes containing our worldly possessions. What better SettlingIn gifts could anyone ever receive?

Corita Kent (Sister Mary Corita): for eleanor (1964) Inscriptions and Marks Signed: l.r.: Sister Mary Corita IHM (not assigned): Printed text reads: THE BIG G STANDS FOR GOODN[ESS] / 4 Eleanor
" … we could read their deep disappointment at what their future had wrought."
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This proved to be a remarkably emotional writing week. If I initiated this series to exorcize some haunting ghosts, I encountered a few of those babies this week. The transition points served up the most memorable Exiled experiences. The Muse and I moved from transition to transition, the inbetween periods remarkably similar regardless of location, amplifying or extenuating conditions. We had become who we were before we were Exiled, and we carried that central identity throughout our excursions. This week, I relived the first searches for a secure place to live, how we searched AlmostRandomly, Circling until we finally figured our future most likely lay North of our temporary housing, finally shrinking our search space into a more manageable size. I described how we switched from seekers to Finders, TheMove, and the first SettlingIn—this week straddled lost and found, seeking and finding. Thank you for following along!

©2024 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Exiled, #PureSchmaltz