Sunday, December 05, 2010

Sitting Still For It


Dinner is black bean soup with toasted cumin seed creme fraiche, yogurt marinated chicken kebabs with aleppo pepper, and more caesar salad and crusty bread.

Thanks, Smitten Kitchen.


And the Woman on The Verge.


Mostly her.


What I love about the Woman on The Verge is that she is as strong and independent as an oak. She makes me feel better when I look at her. So strong. So alive. So creative and single-minded. She's out in the studio right now making a brown velvet coat lined with a blue fabric with white dots. Yesterday she finished her drapery coat with feather boa.

Ever day it's something new.

And the great good luck of my life is that she loves me. Despite how well she knows me.

She is my true north, my true heart, my true love.


I will die a happy man no matter what befalls me, because I found her and gave myself to her. She is my practice, my religion, my salvation.

And yet a billion, billion lifetimes of loving her is insufficient to my needs.


My dream life is so rich of late, it threatens to overswamp my waking life. The other night I was a kind of vampire hit-man. Immortal because I was already dead, and pledged to bringing back to life all those murdered by the living demons of the world.

The thing about dreams is not the plot or images, but the way emotion sweeps through you like a great, lost music.

That's why no one gives a shit about listening to someone else's dreams. You might as well describe Glenn Gould's Goldberg Variations to a deaf mute.

It's the goddamn feeling of the thing that can't be conveyed.


But it lives inside you.

It is your secret life, a second life given to you at no cost.

Do with it what you will.


Just a reminder, the world doesn't have to get any stranger than it is.

You need only to regard it.





Blogger Vespersparrow said...

How much you love your woman, how deeply and completely and forever, and longer than forever you will cherish her is beyond beautiful, beyond rare--and that you know and genuflect to the gods for giving you such extraordinary luck is more moving than there are words for. Thank you for these sweet tears.

2:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow! You made me laugh, cry and agree. Your thoughts & words profoundly move me on many levels (and I learn cool new stuff, too).

I once had a man that wrote me poems, spoiled me and always let me be me--with all my craziness. I, too, thank the gods that allowed me to recognize how fortunate I was. I told him often how rich and beautiful my life was because he was in it. It's one of the few things I don't regret...the "often" part especially.

You're somethin', Dishwasher! Now I've got to go and google Glenn Gould.......


2:42 PM  
Blogger Ms. Moon said...

And all of those women together make up one face, one woman. They could be the woman/women that look upon me in the dream I have so frequently of the part of my house which is filled with treasure and ghosts.
And the feeling they give me, your women, is like the feeling those ghost women give me in my dreaming.


That is the sound of the heart when that person arrives- the one you couldn't believe would show up in this lifetime.


Do you know how lucky I feel to know what you're talking about?

2:57 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


you're welcome.

love is the engine of the world. it starts between a mother and child, grows between two adults, but then it radiates outward like the rays of the sun.

doesn't it?

3:21 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


So great to see you here!

I can't imagine the loss you felt when you had to say goodbye to that man. I know that pain is not sufficient to kill you, although you might wish it would.

But the salve is knowing that you knew. That you loved with all of yourself and held nothing back. Despite the cost.

And do go google Glenn Gould. Watch everything you can. Listen to him, the music inside him that exploded out into the world.

I don't even like music, and he kills me dead.



3:24 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Ms. Moon-

Of course you know what I'm talking about.

I think we're living mirror-image lives.

We might be the same person.

I know that's not it, not exactly. But I swear that's why I don't want to go overboard in praising you. It's like I'm praising myself, and that's a slippery slope.

How odd and wonderful that we've bumped into each other.

Like opening a door that's always been in your house but you never noticed before.

As in a dream.



3:27 PM  
Blogger dottie kee bones said...

man, i effing love it when you write about your wife.

hi! i'm in a totally temporary good mood!!!

3:43 PM  
Blogger Mel said...

Wow indeed. Your wife sounds like a fine person and you both seem lucky to have found each other. It's inexplicable when it works out like that. I imagine you are more lovable than you let on, because she loves you too.

Your description of dreams was so appropriate, something I could never quite verbalize. It is the emotion that makes them so important and vivid to us, not the plot line, which rarely, if ever makes sense.

I agree the world is a very strange place, and I've felt odd and off kilter for noticing it like others do not for most of my life. I have found many amazing, kindred souls on the internet, and my life is richer for it.

Your posts are as much works of art as your art.

Namaste back at you.

4:46 PM  
Blogger Ms. Moon said...

Tearful- Yes. And it's okay- praise yourself. You deserve it.
I did not "meet" you. I recognized you.

5:18 PM  
Blogger Pamela said...

Thank you for writing about your marriage. It's very comforting, to know there's love like that in the world.

6:28 PM  
Anonymous Flamingo Dancer said...

One very lucky woman also.

11:11 PM  
Blogger Angella Lister said...

I don't think one can feel the love you describe except for one who makes you feel completely whole just as you are. No matter how flawed we are, in their sight you are pure soul, radiant light, undimmed by the business of living. I think it is impossible to feel such breathtaking emotion for one who regards you with less than total acceptance of who you are, total knowledge and love for just who you are. Oh it is a rare thing and I am so happy for you that you have it. I know you give it, too. No matter how complicated the days, I know your woman feels profoundly loved. Because what you describe is only possible when it goes both ways.

I'm just thinking out loud and thanks for letting me. I am a lucky as you are somehow. I don't know what I did to deserve it. But there it is. And I am grateful all the time.

6:57 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


Be assured, I'm always "here".
Usually, I'm just a bit intimidated to comment. You inspire me so with your words and art.
That's just the truth....

(And....from Netflix, I ordered "Glenn Gould: Hereafter".)

Play on, Dishwasher....

8:38 AM  
Blogger jim said...

scott -- i tried to send you an email today and it bounced back to me...that's when i noticed that the last email i have saved from you was from 1997...damn.

where are you now?


2:58 PM  
Blogger beth coyote said...

I just watched all the Glenn Gould I could find and then I watched Nirvana live at the Redding Rock Fest. Then I lay on the floor and regretted not being even a back-up singer ever. Glenn was plagued by the willies and Kurt was too beautiful but gawd, I give thanks for them and Ginsberg and Arbus and the NYC ballet and John Lennon and so on.

And thanks to you for transcendent love.

5:26 PM  
Blogger Petit fleur said...

"You need only to regard it"


5:01 AM  
Blogger Frenchy Pectoralis said...

please respond.

I am un-able
to contract any



hop i hv not dis
alowed u to us me
fo ,icj

8:14 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

dottie kee bones-

I love it when I write about her, too. She makes this world worth hanging out in.



12:53 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


thank you for your wonderful comment. This is a rich and strange place, and we owe it to each other to make friends when we recognize kindred spirits. I'm glad you're here.

12:54 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


I'm amazed at my luck to have found her and kept her happy as long as I have.


12:55 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

flamingo dancer-

i don't know if she'd agree with you all the time.

but thank you!

12:56 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


your comments always warm my heart.

thank you.

12:57 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


You shouldn't ever be intimidated around here. We're all pretty easy-going. I'm so glad to hear from you, as always. I think you'll like the Glenn Gould. And thank God for Crackflix, huh?

12:58 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


reach me here: tearfuldishwasher

symbol for at


It will be great to catch up with you!

12:59 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


thanks for your wonderful comment.

i spent a long, long time on your blog the other night when I couldn't sleep. I didn't say 'hi' or anything, but I was deeply moved.

hope we'll keep running into each other.



1:01 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Petit Fleur-

you caught my favorite words in that post. good on you!

1:02 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


thanks for coming by again.

As always, I'm wishing all the best for you.

1:03 PM  

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