Morphous

Originally Posted Sunday, October 27, 2013

Who cares, really, but I've started it and must finish it. . . this narrative of cruel illness.  It is passing, almost done, and this morning I am hacking up the thick, sticky remains of it.  I have slept more in the past three days than I could have hoped for.  It is the best thing.  I have aided myself along with aspirin and half a Xanax each evening.  I have not once woken in the night (but for puking).  I want to sleep like this for the rest of my life.  I want to be well-rested.  I read an article yesterday about the efficacy of sleep on the brain.  One of the benefits of sleep is that it cleans toxins from the brain's cells.  The article didn't say how as it was a popular recount of a study, but I love the sound of that as long as I am able to sleep.  Nor did the article say what the toxins were, but they did link it to Alzheimer's so I imagine it might be those terrible protein strands they have identified.  I am feeling sharper for sure, my mind insightful and analytical again like Sherlock Holmes.  You can see the formulas dancing around my head when I am thinking now. 

I didn't wander far from home yesterday as I was achey and slow, but I did manage in a slow but deliberate way to get some important things done.  I've had a big tube television that has not been turned on in years sitting in my bedroom.  I took it to the curb (it was gone within the hour).  Then I put both my film and my flatbed scanner on the slim table and updated the drivers on an old laptop and set it in between.  No longer must I pull out a scanner and set it up to use it.  I can scan on a moment's notice.  And somehow I am feeling more creative because of it.  Then I went to the studio and made two prints with my new printer to make certain it works after the long journey in the car.  And Voila!  It prints like a champ.  It was thrilling.  I have no internet service in the studio, so I brought the laptop that drives everything there back to the house and installed the drivers for the Epson along with all the paper profiles, took it back and loaded the printer into the preferences, and again--it worked.  Then I came home to collapse and read the printer manual.  I learned some important things that I had never known about the printer that will make printing on odd medium easier.  Now, I think, there are no excuses.  I am ready to launch into something.  I'm not sure what yet. . . but something. 

There are two literal, unpoetic paragraphs devoid of anything of interest.  But the photograph is a nice one, I think, straightforward and odd.  I love photographing people in profile.  It is colder than when they look into the lens.  It says something completely different about the subject.  It is morphous.  There is no such word, but it completely describes what I'm trying to say.  There is a morphousness about it. 

My mother is home from her romp to Nashville.  When she called last night, I asked her how was the trip. 

"Oh, it was alright, you know." 

I want to go to Nashville.  Perhaps this is the right time of year.  But I guess I'm glad I didn't go with my mother.