There isn’t a single day that goes by without something in it stopping me in my tracks, completely blowing my mind. This could be about being simple, which I am. I do mean that- I’m very bright and adaptive, but the term “simple” to describe me strikes me as apt. It took me three months to learn to make a single error-free peyote triangle.
Bill, of course, will let out a snort of laughter at the term “simple”; as he finds me endlessly complex. Good thing, too, because if I can keep him guessing for just a few decades longer, we will be able to have a Golden Anniversary.
Anyway, simple. When I asked Allison to draw me as a dog for the new book (because I think that I am just exactly like a dog, loyal, well-meaning, likely to get into trouble or eat things found on the floor, and sniffing or digging at everything to find out more about it, I love to go for rides in the car, and my ears droop and my eyes get sad if I am misunderstood, or have gotten into trouble) her first question was naturally “what kind of dog?”
I always visualize myself like a cross between a particularly goofy but smart black lab and some sort of Russian hunting hound, playful hugeheart doofus fuckup true love romper competing with an all-too elusive undertone of longlegged, aloof elegance. Doofus will trump elegance in 15 minutes flat, this is measurable (like when I put on finery) but I can, ever so briefly, shimmer and gleam, like a tall and powerful Queen.
She listened to this torrent of words from me and said, “well, I think it should be a puppy.”
The shred of Queen in me rose up indignantly, like a shard of glass, and I said “We are not a puppy.”
And then we both had to admit that in fact I was.
(Actually, I said, “I am not a puppy” not “We are not a puppy” but it sounds WAY better if I had said it like Jadis, or any other proud queen would have, so like a good writer, I changed it. )
Even Doriot’s tomatoes are getting in on the Horn Thing. It’s a powerful wave, sweeping and seeding the Earth.
Photo of the tomato by Doriot Lair, of course, and the one above of Kate walking barefoot over pointy rocks in a gown and opera cloak is by Diana Cannon. (I hope that is right. It could also easily have been Doriot, or Robin Douglas who took that shot. For some reason, I cannot find this information on my drive. I re-organized all of my photos, see…. and then….. Hint for D, D and R: it was a Sony camera. And it wasn’t Jeroen’s.)