before it was me
before it was me; mixed media on cradled wood panel, 30 x 30 x 1 inches. The string series continues.
* * * * *Election Day today, on this grey and windless day. I knew something was up from the cluster of headaches I've been having lately – all these public ambitions so maimed or self-wounded is always distressing to the psyche.
* * * * *Did you hear they got bin Laden? They got bin Laden. I told Oona this morning: This is what happens, when you're bad – the Americans will get you. She giggled and ran away.
* * * * *The whole 'burial at sea' business is curious. Did the bugler play Taps?
* * * * *Having walked so many miles, and followed so many obviously insane people over the years, I've noticed that they often have a rather loping walk, as if slightly stuttering, slightly lifting away from the ground. As if they could just take off and fly at any moment. The fellow this morning was quite concerned with things on the sidewalk that were not there, and took pains to step around them, and wander into traffic when the situation demanded it.
* * * * *Watched two fat guys congratulating each other after a run, barrel-chested swathes of sweat, high-fives all around. They looked like two little Serbian warlords celebrating a successful sacking.