vonnegut and martin

“Then again, I am a monopolar depressive descended from monopolar depressives. That’s how come I write so good.”
-Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., Timequake

“Rather than do an interview with me, which would be fascinating, by the way… because of the interesting word usements I structure… I thought I’d show you around town a little bit…”
Steve Martin, L.A. Story

equinoctes

It’s the longest day of the year, this one. I realized where we are on the calendar last night — smoking a cigarette on the patio and noting with no small amount of surprise that the sunset was very visible at 8:45 PM.

I find that I vacillate on how excited I get for daylight. On the one hand, I absolutely despise the winter sunsets that happen while I’m still indoors at work, the dawns that happen sometimes after I’ve woken. On the other, I associate the extended periods of sun with heat and humidity and being woken by heat or piercing brightness. It’s a forever toss-up for me.

It’s not a secret that I prefer the cooler weather over warm — autumn and winter versus spring and summer. Ironic, given that the lack of daylight triggers my seasonal affective disorder, but also not too surprising, given that I can wear my hoodies all the time… But I also prefer the barren clean minimalism of the world during those times. The bare trees, the muted quality of the air. Once in a blue moon, the ground and rooftops sheathed under a blanket of white (even if that blanket is more like a well-worn bedsheet).

There’s a photo of Natalie on my desktop that I absolutely love. It’s nothing out of the ordinary — just a selfie that she took in front of the bar, cigarette in hand, smiling, staring off into the distance at probably nothing of significance. It’s the first photo she ever sent me, and I’m not even sure if she took it specifically for me or just sent to me at random.

It has so many things that I’ve grown accustomed to over the months — the blue earrings, the choker necklace, the funky fingernail polish colors, the keyring around her neck for setting up the patio, the infectious smile that starts at and comes back to her eyes. There’s something about the moment that makes it look less like an intentional selfie and more like a random candid photo.

Even more wonderful though is the reflection in the window behind her. Again, nothing notable to anyone other than me, maybe — just the same view that I see from the bar, across the avenue, a few parked cars and random trees and buildings. But the trees are bare, naked for the winter sleep, and the sunlight has the placement and muted quality that tells me it’s January (even if I didn’t already know when it was taken), that the sun will set shortly after I get off work, that there’s a chill in the air and that’s not going away any time soon.

I don’t know… I make it a goal to not dwell on past or future, or on things that I’m missing out on, but instead to appreciate the good of the here and now. So I try to push past the upcoming 100+ degree days, and my lack of sleep, and the traveling that I’m not doing with her, and focus instead on the extra daylight and the vitamin D and mental health that comes with it, and that autumn and football and holiday season are not that far off (and getting closer every day), and the knowledge that even when I miss her during the day, I have this wonderful photo to bring her — and the cool weather — a little closer to me.

of skills unremembered

i wish my hands knew how to work
a pencil, a brush, a stick of charcoal
to do away with the interpretive nature of language
and simply show the images in my mind:

of the shape of your body
the gentle small curves that trace from toe to neck
the reflections of sunlight off your freshly showered skin
your perfect legs and perfect fingers and perfect everything

of the sublime Shangri-La that is your countenance
the lips that smile at and speak to and kiss me so heart-stoppingly
the lines that echo a lifetime of laughter and learning and living
the eyes that observe and haunt and twinkle so blindingly

of the way you shine so radiantly
laughing at bad puns and inside jokes
in the throes of physical bliss
when you tell me ‘I love you’

i want these images as reminders for myself
i want to share them with the world, unbidden
but mostly i want you to understand
how your song looks to my soul