Saturday, December 12, 2009

American Gothic


I already decided how to live my life.

But sometimes I catch a glimpse of my face reflected in a mirror and I see a grim looking dude.

Where's his heart at?

Has he lost it along the way?


It strikes me because I think of myself as pretty happy. A balanced life, a deep appreciation for beauty and goodness and wildness and a refusal to shrink from the gritty business of it all.

So I see this mean son of a bitch, it sets me back on my heels.

I want to buy the guy a beer, put my arm around him, get him to loosen up.


But I am a nervous fellow, and grim in my particulars.

And as this morning's yoga session pointed out to me, quite inflexible.


But I have made a salmon chowder and I have committed some art and for a brief moment our child is in the house and speaking to us and nothing is on fire or exploding.

So we count our blessings.


I am up to a brazillion so far.


Namaste to you.



Blogger Maggie May said...

that image and opening remind me of Joyce Carol Oates novel about the young girl and the boxer

9:17 PM  
Anonymous nursemyra said...

"I have committed some art"

that's a nice sentence. and I love the image....

1:12 AM  
Blogger melissashook said...

Sometimes it's just a face, sometimes it reflects the past, not the present, not the acceptance.
I'd never talk to me if I saw me walking along the hallway, I look like I lost my lunch money. But I'm not nearly as bad as I look...
thank you

5:59 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Maggie May-

I was thinking more Flannery O'Connor, but I can see Joyce Carol Oates, too.

I really enjoy your blog, you know.

You got a good thing goin' on there.



1:14 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


Wow. Wow. Wow!

You are some kind of freak.

The kind I like.

I'm really glad you stopped in and I'm glad I looked around your blog, you can bet I'll keep coming back.

You may hang out here at any time.



1:16 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


I would never take your lunch money.

When I was a kid the only kids I ever talked to were the ones who looked like they'd lost their lunch money.

It's a miracle anyone ever survives childhood.

Or adulthood, for that matter.

Which I guess we don't, huh?

Anyway, glad you stopped in and said hi, it's always a pleasure.



1:18 PM  
Blogger 21k said...

I'm pretty sure the mirror lies or at least tells only part of the story. You don't look grim to me, though I bet you can be a really wonderful sonuvabitch if you want.

Glad to hear you've got some good daughter time happening. That's just good.

By the way I moved.

Click 21k and you'll get there if you want. The place is horribly empty but soon it will fill again with the regular bullshit.

4:54 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


Yr sweet to say.

And thank GOD you gave me the link I was freaking the fuck out.

Seriously, do not go away on us. On me.



5:14 PM  
Blogger Mim said...

Real--this occasional grimness. Life calls for it.

7:45 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


You, my dear, are exactly correct.

I toast to you and the brilliance you bring to this corner of the world.



8:25 PM  
Blogger this time round said...

"grim in my particulars" I love that.
A trip to your world is always rewarding.
all best ~ k

3:33 PM  

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