Because I got my bed. And made it during the lecture. It even has a box spring––I may be delirious. Beds matter. Beds are seminal, as are 420 count egyptian cotton sheets from Marshalls. Four pillows, a table, even if it is an old scratched sewing machine case. I found a cotton coverlet and a cotton blanket to fold at my feet, a print in the crawl space that spoke to me to hang over the bed… the glass was a little cracked, and proceeded to crack more, so that when the pieces all fell out and cut my foot, I didn’t even notice. Because I got my bed today. After 12 days waiting, I was getting stir crazy, not the most patient person. For those you who may be concerned, I stopped and washed, put on antibacterial ointment and a bandaid, once I had bled on the lovely coverlet and wondered where it came from.
That may be a perfect description: wanting it to look perfect, being so excited I don’t notice I am wounded, bleeding on the bedspread. A small mar. But the print is spectacular, it is called “Momentary,” an artist’s proof, just waiting for me in the scary little antichamber room next to this attic apartment, which is no longer scary, now that I cleaned it.
My new credo:
dilapidated = fine, arrange things around it; dirty = clean it up.
The lovely maintenance guys also delivered a dresser. 3 drawers, maybe 30” wide, painted green… the picture makes it look large. My favorite green is sort of a sea blue-green-gray, yet this is still good. But it is seriously small. My closet is maybe 36” wide. Um. Um. I have a stack of things as high as the dresser, that will not fit in the dresser. Maybe all the clothes brought for winter need to live in the no-longer-scary room until the weather decides to turn towards cool. And shoes. A woman needs options, is all I’m saying. My twin bed got moved in the previously spare living room, and I think we will make it into a couch/day bed sort of thing. Over my dresser, I hung a mirror that is so seriously not my style, it is almost ironic… and yet, it might be sort of perfect. Now, I am on the hunt for thrift store lamps, anything incandescent…. plus going to the hardware store for clamp lights to flood the walls in my studio. There are fluorescents, but I can’t stand them.
Today, I assigned all the applicants for the residency fellowship (408 people, yay VSC) to jurors. Every writing application needs to be reviewed by 2 judges, each juror reads 25 applications. It is just a mathemtical and organization thing, where you forget to blink cause you don’t want to mess up.Thank god for hatha yoga––so in my head and doubting first time mistakes I forgot to be thankful. Won't have to do that again until October, the next round of jurying.
Also took Aimee Nez to the airport, my first Burlington drive alone. Traffic, construction, an accident. An hour drive took 1 hr 15 minutes, I found out that in the Northeast, summer = the season of road construction. So instead of the windey road back, I took the freeway and then a different windey road––there is no way to get here except windey roads––and driving 65 mph made me feel like a bird. I think, after all the time driving here, I missed being in control of a vehicle moving fast, windows down, music turned up. Perhaps so American, that sense of freedom embodied in motion and a half ton of steel hurtling down tar and concrete. God I love it.
The windey road was the one I drove in on, just two weeks ago. In addition to the windmills, which gladden my heart like first snowflakes, there was a mighty waterfall feeding a power station, and a green field by a dairy farm/winery was planted with something that looked like mustard—imagine turning the corner and as far as the eye can see, a field filled with yellow flowers in bloom. Red barn, blue/violet silos. Pinpoints of light and new warmth, the recent past confronted by the present and melded.
So now I am in my studio. Thinking of surpising beds of blossoms and roiling water and the fact that I will climb into a double bed with new sheets (define double, define surprise, define water). In my studio, there is a new table I scavenged today, to the right of my chair, but no ottoman yet. Tomorrow I’ll get bricks and build up a low bookcase out of wood planks I found. Or maybe Friday. I am trying to learn patience, a thing a day. Ok two, or three, but not 27. I have a serious need for aesthetic order. Mixed with a desire to mess it all up. The bed made, sheets turned down, hospital corners, then tossing and turning all night long. If I wasn’t recording it, I’d forget there was progress.
1. a piece of furniture for sleep or rest, typically a framework with a mattress and coverings. "a large double bed"
synonyms: cot, cradle, crib, berth; informal the sack, the hay "she got into her bed"
a place or article used by a person or animal for sleep or rest.
the time for sleeping.
a bed and associated facilities making up a place for a guest at a hotel.
informal the typical place for sexual activity.
2. an area of ground, typically in a garden, where flowers and plants are grown. (patch, plot, border, strip)
3. close association (in cahoots with)
4. a flat base or foundation on which something rests or is supported, in particular. (foundation, support, surface, prop, substructure)
the foundation of a road or railroad.
the open part of a truck, wagon, or railroad car, where goods are carried.
the flat surface beneath the baize of a billiard table.
5. a layer or pile of something, in particular.
a layer of food on which other foods are served.
a layer of rock or other geological material.
any mass or pile resembling a bed.
6. the bottom of the sea or a lake or river. (floor, ground) "a riverbed"
a place on the seabed, where shellfish breed or are bred.
verb 1. settle down to sleep or rest for the night, typically in an improvised place.
settle a person or animal down to sleep or rest for the night.
2. have sexual intercourse with.
3. transfer (a plant) from a pot or seed tray to a garden plot.
4. fix firmly; embed.
lay or arrange (something, especially stone) in a layer.
Old English bed, bedd (noun), beddian (verb), of Germanic origin; related to Dutch bed and German Bett,, Latin fodere ‘to dig’