Saturday, March 27, 2010
It rained last night. But that didn’t stop the neighbor’s young tom from yowling on the roof outside our bedroom window. The harder it rained, the louder he yowled. And the wind — I imagined it was violet. I was also dreaming in that color. I had started some kind of painting business, having to do with old furniture. My equipment consisted of a violet paintbrush and a can of paint, a neatly folded drop-cloth with a menacing violet blotch, and a clay pot filled with violets. “Violets,” I thought. “In from the field. We each in our way must do what we can.” But I had no business — and suddenly it dawned on me that I would never have any business, because business was not, and had never been, the business I was in. And I was glad.
Recently Linked: My thanks to onedaneplace for signing on as a follower of Recently Banned Literature. Welcome!
In the Forum: a test run.