By Alicia Ostriker
Matisse, too, when the fingers ceased to work,
Worked larger and bolder, his primary colors celebrating
The weddings of innocence and glory, innocence and glory
Monet when the cataracts blanketed his eyes
Painted swirls of rage, and when his sight recovered
Painted water lilies, Picasso claimed
I do not seek, I find, and stuck to that story
About himself, and made that story stick.
Damn the fathers. We are talking about defiance.
For five hours today, I had an iPod. Spent nearly the entire five hours trying to make the damn thing work without making my computer refuse to recognize the external hard drive. Tried reassigning the drive letters, tried calling Apple (who told me to call Dell, as if Dell has any control over how Windows and iPod software work together), eventually discovered via the device manager that the hard drive and the iPod were both insisting on being in Location 0, whatever the hell that means. Could get no useful advice from Apple (call #2) or online anywhere about what to do about this. Finally said f&$% it, took it back to the store. Have all my birthday money again and am trying to decide whether it would be insane to spend $400 on a lens.
Otherwise I worked on holiday cards and had lunch with miriya_b at La Madeleine, where the food was excellent as always -- I always forget that they have bread and jam, and I ate my tomato bisque and pesto pasta salad and took my entire sandwich home! I have a weird relationship with La Madeleine, which is very close to where I live and has yummy things, but it's where I was from 8:45 to 11 a.m. on September 11th, 2001, in blissful ignorance because the cellular networks went down very quickly and apparently no one in the kitchen had a radio on so all I knew was what I'd heard on the way over, that a small plane had hit the World Trade Center and they assumed it was an accident.
So after we discussed Jewish politics and our mutual birthdays (both this week though she's loads younger than I am), we walked over to A.C. Moore, where I was hoping to find fabric glue...which turned out to be on a rack next to the register, after I walked through most of the store. Which was fine, because they had fuzzy socks for sale for $1.50 a pair, plus penguin slippers that I think are too girly for younger son but for the price it was worth the risk. He had a very long violin lesson today practicing pieces for the holiday recital this weekend at a nursing home -- two boys on violin and the teacher's daughter on cello, with much giggling and protesting. Older son stayed late at school for a barbership quartet rehearsal with the chorus so when I went to return my frustrating iPod, we all had Haagen-Dazs at the mall.
And this is a 15th century chimney piece imported from Italy, with putto finials by Nicolò Roccatagliata in the same gallery. In this case I wasn't reminded of The Lord of the Rings, I just liked the balance.
I did no laundry since before last weekend until Wednesday afternoon. Need I tell you how many baskets I have to fold now?