Sunday, September 18, 2011

Interlude with Diana



*




I have by some miracle these two women in my life, my daughter and my wife. There is such fierceness in them. It manifests in different ways, but neither of them is someone you'd want to go up against. The kid is at war with the entire world. She's lost every battle, gotten her ass kicked hard. She never cries about it, never despairs. Just takes a deep breath and plunges back into the fray.

I don't know what it is inside her that drives her to war with everything we tried to give her, but she won't rest until the landscape is a smoking ruin as far as the eye can see.

Perhaps she will rebuild her own golden city on the burning plain.

Perhaps she will.

*

That other woman, the one I married. You wouldn't maybe know it right at first, because of her quiet nature and her beauty and graciousness. But if you weren't careful you might brush up against something that made you want to back up a little bit, make some space for what felt like there might be a bear or a lion or a bull somewhere close by, something so goddamn strange and strong and indifferent to you that it makes the hairs on your neck lift.




*

I make my living studying violence and passion and this has in no way prepared me in my lifelong dance with these two women. I am wrong about them over and over again, with little hope for improvement in the future.

I don't think it is my fate to understand everything about them. Obviously it isn't. 

But what sheer joy to be in orbit around them, careening through life, headlong, throwing sparks, watching things burn, hanging on by my fingertips as they break against the world or each other, or me, or themselves.


It isn't always easy, but it's a hell of a ride.


Thank you for the honor of your company.









*

To you brave warrior women!


Skoal!


***


Namaste.


***

9 Comments:

Blogger susan t. landry said...

scott, i've been quiet here lately, just reading yr stuff, not posting. but this piece of artwork is beyond great. what you and your family are churning through is flinging sparks and spears in many far-flung directions. keep on keepin' on.
--susan

7:26 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Susan-

thanks!

i'm grateful for your company here, and don't worry about being quiet when you don't feel like talking.

7:29 AM  
Blogger Maggie May said...

Sunday, September 18, 2011
Interlude with Diana


*




I have by some miracle these two women in my life, my daughter and my wife. There is such fierceness in them. It manifests in different ways, but neither of them is someone you'd want to go up against. The kid is at war with the entire world. She's lost every battle, gotten her ass kicked hard. She never cries about it, never despairs. Just takes a deep breath and plunges back into the fray.

I don't know what it is inside her that drives her to war with everything we tried to give her, but she won't rest until the landscape is a smoking ruin as far as the eye can see.

Perhaps she will rebuild her own golden city on the burning plain.

Perhaps she will.

*

That other woman, the one I married. You wouldn't maybe know it right at first, because of her quiet nature and her beauty and graciousness. But if you weren't careful you might brush up against something that made you want to back up a little bit, make some space for what felt like there might be a bear or a lion or a bull somewhere close by, something so goddamn strange and strong and indifferent to you that it makes the hairs on your neck lift.




*

I make my living studying violence and passion and this has in no way prepared me in my lifelong dance with these two women. I am wrong about them over and over again, with little hope for improvement in the future.---

fascinating. i read it three times.

9:24 AM  
Blogger Angella Lister said...

i feel such a flutter of hope in this, a small flame of what's possible, and i'm over here fanning it with prayers and love.

9:30 AM  
Blogger Ms. Moon said...

I am choosing to pretend that I am a brave warrior woman, even as I am on my knees, pulling weeds that never quit needing pulling, even as I wash diapers, even as I despair at the never-endingness of it, even as get up and go do it again, even as I forget how to spark, even as I realize I have misplaced my sword, even as I long to just lay back on the buffalo and let the spikes be driven in by that deep dense fur.

11:01 AM  
Blogger Elizabeth said...

It's a privilege to be a woman reading you, writing about women.

11:43 AM  
Blogger Petit fleur said...

Indeed!

It's so great that you appreciate these tendencies they have and honor them in your way...

I have been told with regard to my husband whom I rarely understand (his process that is) That I'm not required to understand it, just to accept it. It sounds like you've accepted all the noise and thunder.

Sometimes that's the best we can do.

You all are very fortunate to have each other.
Peace,
pf

3:12 PM  
Blogger Petit fleur said...

Oh, PS the artwork... strikes a deep chord. Hot chills.

That buffalo looks so ancient and massive and tired and dusty and gritty and beautiful.... and the figure near him with the spikes. (With my eyes, they could be cigarettes... but that would be like the squid thing, right?)

Anyway, LOVE IT.

3:16 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Maggie, Angela, Ms. Moon, PF, Elizabeth!!!!!

You guys, man!


I am so damn glad you keep coming here, and sharing your thoughts with me and with each other. It makes this place really alive.

I am humbled and blessed by your kindness.


yrs-


Scott

2:06 PM  

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