One of those weeks that, in retrospect, is shot full of electricity.

Big problems writing. I sat down to write a review/interview of/with a friend of mine, and the words got stuck. It was horrible. I worked on this dinky 250-word thing for an hour and a half and got something ugly and soul-less, and then as I was leaving the building to go to the opening, it all fell into place. I should have turned around right then, because it was gone by the time I got back. Doesn’t matter – it never got put up on the school web thing.

And then photos wouldn’t go through! Emailing pictures for the school magazine coming out in April, I suppose, due on Friday, not showing up in editor’s email. So I went to load them direct from my camera, and that almost didn’t work. Pictures gone? NOOOOO! But then there they were.

I’ve missed two days of school, and both times I’ve come back to notes in printmaking that if you don’t show up you’ll flunk, and then my teacher has to tell me she doesn’t mean me, because I show up outside of class and work. I set the agenda for this class, because I’m always catching the teacher outside of class and asking her how to do something or talk about something, and she says, hey, good idea, we’ll do that Monday.

But also this week, everything lurched into forward again.

The art show was by a guy that I met in Small Metals last term, and we bonded, and everybody loves him so the show was packed, and I knew (loosely speaking, having seen them around or maybe spoke a few words with them) a bunch of the people, so I could hang out and talk, and then somebody came in who didn’t really know those people but knows me came up and talked, and then I talked to the artist’s mom (I’d been threatening him with telling her all about him, or something equally ridiculous), and she’s so proud of him, and all her kids, justifiably so. (This talking to people? Big thing. Means I don’t think everybody knows something I don’t know so much any more.)

And printmaking! Whoa! Took off like a rocket, with seeing the etching I was working on suddenly point out its path for me, and then gathering up bits of a cut-up plate and another plate somebody had abandoned and printing them all together for an embossed piece that I had better get framed, so I can show it to lots of people. Collage, same thing. Can’t do that pure abstraction that if you’re not careful looks like poo-poo – or poo-poo with glitter – but I can stylize to the point of just-barely-recognizable. Driving back Wednesday morning early in a clear, clear morning, watching the crows swoop down looked like music to me, so a trip to a Fabric Store and a Craft Store, and suddenly I’ve got something that I Like, plus that path forward.

Bigfoot is still in the nursing home, but he got a laptop so he can keep his head occupied, as much as he’s capable of. We went out for dinner last night, which was nearly normal. I know I’m settling, but nearly normal is pretty awesome these days. I suppose he’ll have his leg by the time he gets out – okay, when I write a sentence like that it hits me what a long strange trip it’s been, but it’s getting better – and so it won’t be me wrestling the institutional wheelchair beast out of the back of the car, and figuring out how to get from here to there, and running into the restaurant and asking the waiter to hold that table for the guy in the wheelchair. Or maybe at some point that all will be normal, and won’t peg my blood pressure quite so much. And maybe we’ll have that little talk about how laughing at the person who is trying to get your wheelchair into the back of the car is just not a good thing, especially when the reason it isn’t working is that you’ve done something to it. This is why we go to Walmart a lot lately; easy to get into, and those electric carts right inside the door.

I can’t mall-crawl any more either. I got my eyes checked, and yes, it’s true; my right eye is way out there. So I went to look at frames just for fun. They all look exactly the same, at least in the two mall stores I went to. And I didn’t see anything I liked, except for a few pieces of jewelry and then I’d say to myself, I could make that and it would look much better. I did see a wallet I liked, but it cost $98. I feel like I’m a failure of the American model, or something. I just can’t imagine buying things any more. (Except for art supplies, and the tools I need for my own small metals shop down in the basement. They don’t count.) Poor too long, I suppose. I won’t be helping lift the country out of the recession any time soon.

Anyway. Only picture I feel like sharing. I was working on a story about the film department for the magazine, and practicing taking pictures of the teevee. And my daughter loves me and is coming to respect the idea that my generation really was the best ever, and has bought a copy of “Hard Day’s Night,” and that film is genius, and besides. John.

So there.

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