Pumpkin – Livesay Writing

Hi.

Coffee: Colombian, Starbucks Brand (grocery store bought, a gift)

I went to a friend’s house last night and carved pumpkins. It’s a nice place in a nice neighborhood. The backyard has two old trees. After the carving, we watched The Conjuring on their projector outside. The wind sat in for the movie. In the spooky parts, it was hard not to look up at the moon.

I’ve been having restless dreams. Late night drives, anxious faces, I’ve got somewhere to be but can’t get there. Typical stuff, but it sticks with me when I wake up. Today, I tried writing but it wasn’t doing. Then I tried submitting to journals but it wasn’t doing. I spent a morning in the sun spilling from my bedroom window watching internet streams. And it was peaceful and I guess that’s okay.

I can’t write much tonight. I’ve got to take the trash out. R has it ready. We had friends over, ordered pizzas, the boxes are too big for the cans. Best I can tell, the night’s a cold one. I have shorts on. Cross your fingers for me.

Currently Reading: Autumn, Ali Smith; Cherry, Nico Walker

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“Miraculously, smoke curled out of his own mouth, his nose, his ears, his eyes, as if his soul had been extinguished within his lungs at the very moment the sweet pumpkin gave up its incensed ghost.” – Ray Bradbury, The Halloween Tree

Hi.

Coffee: India Extra Bold Roast, Cafe Crema

A day in transit: I went to the NC Museum of Art then to Burlington for M’s birthday. The museum had a piece by Yayoi Kusama. It was a mirrored box with tiny portholes. Inside, lights flashed. I waited forty-five minutes to see it. They let in three of us at a time. We saw each other through the holes, cascaded in the strobes, the rest of the world carefully kept behind us. It was intimate, public, aloof.

Four years ago, I saw one of Kusama’s polka dotted pumpkins outside the Fukuoka art museum. My guide told me she didn’t know why it had so many dots. I didn’t either. I told her that in America, all the pumpkins are orange. She found that strangest of all.

We pray together at private phone cathedrals; waiting in line, mutually restless.

Currently Reading: LaRose, Louise Erdrich

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“Polka dots can’t stay alone. When we obliterate nature and our bodies with polka dots, we become part of the unity of our environments.” – Yayoi Kusama

Tag: Pumpkin

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