Friday, August 26, 2011

"Summeries #7"

"I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

On 2/9, I wrote, "The only time that I rested was when I was sick or worked myself until I was sick or until I felt fragile, which for me is one and the same."

Now I am not exaggerating when I say that I am magnificently prone to hyperbole. But I did find it interesting in this case that I would associate my own human fragility with illness. Perhaps you may understand that connection. Perhaps you have experienced that connection. See, I have developed a life strategy to deal with this issue. I put so much authentic information out into the world. And it is all very self-revealing, in the sense that I am choosing what aspects of self to reveal. In doing so, I have girded myself in a virtually impenetrable armor. Density of content, layers of meaning, galaxies of images and words. Which of course, takes an incredible amount of work (please refer back to the above citation). Maintenance issues, etc. etc. So girded, I make my way. The "Summeries" Series is evidence of this effort.

“Actualized Dreams” #16.

Lightning struck at the top of the mountain and traveling all the way down towards the house on a string of barbed wire, jumped into the house and burned out the fuse box. Reminded me of the family that was sitting around the living room and spontaneously combusted. At least it was spontaneous. I don’t want to think they planned it. Been there, done that….good times.

“Actualized Dreams” #17.

How funny that you would call tonight and ask me about the goat. Candy. Her name was Candy. And I would walk with her and Mona and Sally and Jasmine and Emu along uncharted trails for hours.That that would become part of your story is just like the Maraschino Cherry of my life’s canvas. I don’t care if Big Brother is watching. This is too good not to record….good times.

“Actualized Dreams” #18.

And then out of the blue I come across a photograph of you delivered by some syncrocratic angel and it floored me. Literally. I mean, I just wrote that down. I’ll meet you at the lake at the appointed time. I’ll be sporting a Mullet for the occasion. Call me Rude. Evan Rude….good times.

All work by Tom Schulz, unless otherwise noted.

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(editors note: yes, we feel total freedom to make up words)

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