Sidetracked Charley

We are always so aware of our ends. And so oblivious to our beginnings. Do our lives begin not at our births but at that moment we achieve a conscious memory? And is that memory always of this life? Can it be of the ones before? And are our lives linear or cyclic? We talk of deja vu ; that feeling of having been here before. What if we have? I don't do dates. Dad died in August. I don't know the year. Mother on the day after Thanksgiving, very early some Friday morning. I can tell you my birth date because I memorized it to put on forms ad infinitum (again and again in the same way forever). These people lived, shared my life and moved on. What matters the exact dates? Mother always said I lived too much in my head. Is there someplace else to live? My reality may not be your reality. I was ecstatic when I discovered philosophy high school. I am clearly an existentialist. And I know I have been this way before. More than once I believe. But at the moment it is not ...

Thicke in the Bucket There are days I truly envy my cat. Thicke has it made. All the food he wants. Petting when it suits him. All the boxes he could dream of. And a bucket to hide in. He is truly the Cheshire Cat of my highly imaginative childhood. I always wanted to be able to erase myself like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. At a minimum I want a bucket to hide in. Winter is my bucket. Summer just seems so exposed. I seem too much out of my comfort zone. Too many things to do and too little time to do them in. Too many events I should attend. All the summer people are in town holding court. They are all having parties or the locals are having parties for them. I would rather see them one on one. Max three for lunch. Last week was such a social whirl I just totally forgot some things I had on the calendar. My virtual bucket. "Oh, I forgot." But in truth some things I just ignored. Like the balloons. Yes, not easy to ignore 42 hot air balloons all weekend l...

I saw Alice in Wonderland, or is it Underland, yesterday. It was a day that began badly. First my bathroom scale broke. Then the satellite internet. I, and my friends, were trying to beat a storm over and back to Taos and conflicting weather reports did not give us warm and fuzzy feelings about the venture. But go we did. And when I left my modem still had not captured a satellite. I was in etherland withdrawals. We arrived at the Taos hot spot, Micheal's Kitchen, confronted by a bit of a line and realization it was spring break for most of Texas and all of Oklahoma. We began to dread what we might find at the local movie house. It was packed but we did get in line early and with good seats after a very good brunch. And endless chatter. Ronnie says men need about 100 words a day and women require 1500. His wife, Jessica, and I being artists we go for days without meeting our quota; alone, isolated in our studios talking to paints and silver that don't answer back. So line wa...

As a child and even as an adult, Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland has made a lasting impression on me. The caterpillar asking Alice, "Who are you?" was one of the most frightening scenes in the Disney movie. Maybe because I had an uncle that was a great deal like that caterpillar. He used to pick up my doll and tilt her back and forth to see her eyes close and open and then pick me up and tilt me and ask why my eyes did not open and close like hers. Do adults know the scary questions they pose to children? I could not have been more than four or five at the time. I think it was later before Disney came out with the movie of Alice in Wonderland, though Dad used to read from the book certain selections. My favorite was The Walrus and the Carpenter. I used to take the book and read it to myself at a very early age. Is that why I have "Wonderland" dreams. Or do we all dream like that at times and Lewis Carroll tapped into it with his words. Last night was one of ...