Blind Girl's Ride
*
Back to work. Couple of my buddies got in a scrape last night. It got loud, if you catch my drift.
I can still have beers with them tonight, so it turned out alright.
*
Yesterday I made homemade raviolis with butternut squash, goat cheese, and sage in a brown butter pecan sauce for dinner.
I don't care what I ever make again.
*
I got a deep, abiding sense of sadness and sweetness right now. Every time there's one of these things it is like a tuning fork trembling far down inside of me, singing a razor's song.
I like those boys and I'm glad they come out of it good.
Fuck everybody else.
*
Shit. I thought I had something to say, but I don't.
***
Namaste.
***
posted by tearful dishwasher at 6:18 PM
6 Comments:
You said plenty. That tuning fork singing a razor's song? Sad and sweet for sure. I never thought about that sound, that feeling before, but now that you've named it, I know exactly what you mean. Well, maybe not exactly. Maybe just my version of it. But I am glad you can have beers with your buddies tonight, even trembling inside.
And OMG that squash-goat cheese-sage ravioli in brown butter pecan sauce, well i might just have to steal that. it's inspired.
About the girls, I hope I'm not overstepping, but I think sometimes you are searching for a moment with your daughter in their faces. in their postures and in their invented stories. some sadness there. and tenderness for them too.
Good night, my friend.
Angella-
You made me cry.
goddamnit.
you are sweet and insightful and I'm glad you are my friend.
How did I get so damn lucky?
yrs-
tearful
You did have something to say, and you said it fine.
And I loved your comment over at Ms. Moon's.
You two sustain me, sometimes.
Yea, you said it...
Glad it all turned out ok with your friends.
Would love that ravioli recipe. It sounds divine.
Take care,
pf
Sometimes I have nothing to say at all when you write because your writing and your art blow the sense out of me.
Today I am not going to fuck it up by saying something stupid. I'm just going to say that you blow the sense right out of me.
Okay. And this:
You are the knife and you are the meat laying waiting on the table.
Angella gave me the chills with her observation.
Your art makes me think of my sister and I. It is hard and true.
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