Friday, April 30, 2010

mis en scene


which means: starting the story somewhere in the middle. the story I'M in the middle of is my dastardly kitchen table. it was blessedly and adorably bequeathed to us by elizabeth, one of our favorite waitresses at roxy's. what makes it dastardly is its pressboard-looking-ways.

keep in mind that people LOVE to tell you that painting a veneer finish will last for about a half hour before it peels off. (i am usually the sort of person who gambles with temporal fixes. for example, i have a temporary fake front tooth from the tender age of sixteen and no dental insurance.) but it's true, and they're right, so be prepared for these comments and for addressing the Veneer Situation. when i consulted the man who looks like benjamin franklin (WHOSE NAME I LEARNED TODAY IS FRANK) at the hardware story, he told me that all i need is a special sort of primer to cover the veneer before painting. he directed me to this guy, and i bought it. i know $17 is a little steep for this blog, and i'm sorry. but i did it for us all.

i have applied the first coat of primer to the table, and now i am in the midst of deciding on a design i can stand. i have thought about doing something geometric or colloquial, but in the end i would love to incorporate some poetry into this project.maybe something from one of these:

from fishing on the susquhanna (billy collins)

I am more likely to be found
in a quiet room like this one --
a painting of a woman on the wall,


a bowl of tangerines on the table --
trying to manufacture the sensation
of fishing on the Susquehanna.

from stones (charles simic)

I have seen sparks fly out
when two stones are rubbed,
so perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
perhaps there is a moon shining
from somewhere, as though behind a hill--
just enough light to make out
the strange writings, the star-charts
on the inner walls.

from i carry your heart (e.e. cummings)

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
h
igher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.

what we need is here (wendell berry)

geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. and we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. what we need is here.

(also, i am really opinionated, but i am always interested in suggestions. i am putty in your hands.)

and now, welcome to a segment we call This Person Has Surpassed Me in which i catch wind of someone doing excellent work, and i want to tell you about them. today's guest is tim hoover, a gentle and brilliant soul working at lancaster's infantree gallery. tim's prints are poetic, thought-provoking, and still. this is one of my favorites.

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