Sat out in the just-about-there spring sunshine and read recipes for asparagus, artichokes and tiny broad beans with foaming hollandaise. Scary stuff, hollandaise. My new dog lay on his back on the grass looking like an ugly shark. Great Danes have the sweetest natures of any dog I have known. The small dogs adore and torment him because he is still a clumsy puppy and they are full-grown and female.
My former art teacher had a lingering death-bed scene in which she forgave all her oldest friends and kissed her family members goodbye. Then she got better and now is about to go off to a frail care centre. She is furious about this, has changed her will and is busy fighting with her old friends and not speaking to her immediate family. I hope to be like her in those golden, mellow and often hideous years. She gets on the phone to lawyers at 5am and gets them out of bed so she can shout at them. She refuses to look at catalogues of homes and insists she interview care managers and matrons. Feisty, passionate and eager to fight for myself and quality of life.
There was a walk planned through the mountains, but my hayfever is too bad.
Last night I had a dream in which I was doing handstands against a wall vivid with red, purple, yellow and green graffiti. Beautiful topsical turvical handstands.
For all of us freedom-loving upside-down eccentrics, here is Joe Gerstandt. Asking the unanswerable questions:
(1) Do you know who you are?
(2) Do you know what you’re here for?
(3) Do you know what your gift is?
‘Speak the truth even if your voice shakes’