It's not that I don't appreciate them, individually, but N. and I are watching the 1978 Harold Pinter movie, Langrishe, Go Down, in which Judi Dench and Jeremy Irons get it on together in rural pre-war Ireland. Pinter screenplay = disturbing. Ms. Dench + Mr. Irons doing the wild thing = very disturbing. Fortunately, both actors have improved with age, Jeremy Irons doesn't always do a German accent, and they've managed to avoid love scenes together in recent years.
In the dream I was backing our old VW camper off a sand dune, and then N. told me she had been unfaithful. When the nightmare woke me up, the real N. was much nicer. I have to say, my dream state may have been influenced as much by the three-year-old pot sticker sauce I added to last-night's stir fry, as it was by the cheese-like effect of watching Pinter just before bedtime.
So, today is a very different day. For one thing, it's warmer (40º F) and overcast. I'm hoping our quotidian walk with the dogs, A. and B., will blow the cobwebs out of my head. I also have to mail some packages, as a few things sold on Amazon, one of my sources of income. Hopefully, I'll get to see my pal G. at the post office. Sadly, M., an outspoken and entertaining Muslim USPS employee, has taken early retirement and won't be back, after taking two weeks vacation over the holidays. I'll miss our conversations about the way the world turns, from our somewhat different/somewhat the same perspectives, as immigrants to the US.
As far as my art work goes, today I've been responding to enquiries about the Homeless Chateau. It's getting some online buzz. Originally conceived as a purely conceptual piece – well before the mortgage bubble burst, and perhaps as much a response to my own perhaps untenable material existence (and that of a few other home-owning Americans), as it was to the problem of homelessness – I've been encouraged to explore the idea of the Homeless Chateau as something more than just an interactive sculpture that gets people thinking about homelessness. I'm still not sure how this will pan out, and I'm seeking the advice of people who know much more about homelessness than I do, including Kevin Barbieux, The Homeless Guy.
Later, N. and I will get back to watching the end of Langrishe, Go Down. Don't get me wrong, Judy Dench isn't entirely unsexy. I like her character's habit of roaming around the countryside wearing nothing under her raincoat, sometimes "squatting, hidden, in a ditch while a drunken tramp goes by" (more-or-less a quote from the movie), and particularly that she talks about it. Good old Pinter. But I'll try to eat a little earlier and stay out of the back of the fridge.
Advice to fellow artists: Stay out of the back of the fridge.
Photo Tom Moore.
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