Being Honest

What I really think, if I was being objective, if I reported what I saw, looking at every nuance, might be different from what I say. Can of worms. What I think I'm saying in what I say, the gist, is a small part. So many parts per million, really small, less than what would kill you. What story is being told. I think it all comes down to story, what I say to you, which is why YOU are so important. Getting a start on tomorrow. I like that I'm ahead. I need a serious Sunday to get ready for a busy Monday and decide that I'll only read when I'm eating. Becomes difficult, because I took Procopius out of the bookcase, intending to just read some marked passages, but it's ("The Secret History") so angry and caustic it makes me want to read some Dahlberg. I don't. I clean the stovepipe, a messy job, then outside to pick the sticks for the mock wall. Justin, Justinian, and Theodora, first half of the sixth century, modern era, Fucking idiots. Justin was illiterate, they made a stencil, LEGI (meaning 'I have read') and his sign, so he could just rub ink across. Found an interesting piece in the wrack pile, that I remembered collecting, a small thing, 18 inches long and 3 wide, tapering at both ends (but differently tapering): if you turn it one way it's a dagger sticking down, if you turn it the other it's a feather pointing up. I brush it clean. A pocked surface, like hard sandblasting, very nice. The texture is everything sometimes. The Wrack Show is about form. The viewer has to extrapolate meaning from form. You, all over again. B, I think is correct, when he said I write these things into reality. Like it wasn't real before I got a hold of it, but after I had worried it almost to death, it became (would become) something tangible, in self-defense, if for no other reason. And, frankly, it gives me something to do. Consider my life. There is a way in which I only do things to have something to write about. I would only do another play, have to be a Pinter, because I wanted to reflect on dark, familial things; only do another installation if it promised access to some forbidden place. My younger daughter is uncomfortable right now and I wonder if I should ask her to come and live with me. We'd make a great pair: weird father and weird daughter appearing normal. I'd certainly not want to be any kind of role-model, living as I do, but Rhea is one of the few people I know who could actually do it, live the way I do, and suggest improvements. Suggest improvements that I would listen to. Because I'm alone I probably think too much, but I got up to get another drink, and there the pieces were, took my breath away, anything we do will be fine.