Life’s preciousness grows ever more and I tumble through new experiences like I walk through open doorways in the mansions of your heart.
Undo posted again. Did you see that? I have not smacked my lips with such greedy anticipation last since when I had Tracey Chevalier’s Girl with a Pearl Earring and a free Saturday afternoon to savour every detail.
I have been wondering a lot about economic exiles and those who go away and never return. On their walls paste new flags of adopted homelands and on weekend jogs dress right first with the sweat shirt of a university they would have attended if they had been born there. What takes them away and in night weaving to the fridge for a drink of water, do they still miss home, try not to look back because home was like that woman you loved but she did not love you back enough to get you a job with pay worth you.
Did I tell you about my obsessive purchase of fancy writing pens, free ink rollers, and notebooks I can tuck in my shirt pocket? I cross roads and delay to rendezvous became I came across a stall with a variety of a design of a pen I had not seen before and I’m gone for the day with a goofy smile and writing silly things in notebooks every fleeting thought because I love the way this new pen glides, I’m in love with it!
I don’t buy flowers for girls. Or boys. I have this absurd notion that if you love flowers, you should have a garden of flowers; have flowerpots on your veranda, with ever living flowers. I sniff flowers. I take photographs of flowers. I don’t kill flowers.
God, I desperately want to read D.H. Lawrence’s travel writing again!
I saw a lizard hunting today morning. On a ledge of a hotel where I climb the stairs to have my two morning cups of a coffee. In brilliant sunlight, like a miniature alligator, this lizard whirling around on a moth or a butterfly. I have never seen as many lizards as I have seen in Sudan! They’re like gaily dressed dancers in their many colours.
I love photographs, ink drawings a bit. Photographs are not just visual memories; a good photograph will win you my friendship. I see in photographs not just what is there but what could be, links, connections, allusions. There’s a photograph of Degstar that has linked him in my mind forever with D.H. Lawrence, Lulu is Katherine Mansfield, Countryboy became a Select Garments men’s suit model, Cheri is a Tsar Russia socialite with her carriage waiting outside, Nevender reminds me of Kafka’s the hunger artist, Magoo is a closet vinyl-record collector, Undo makes me think of Kabalega: and there’s a photograph on my laptop screen saver that reminds me how I fell in love with her.