radfrac_archive_full: (ask me ask me ask me)
I got over my unrelationship self-pity before Valentine's Day, which seems like a shame. I had all this really decent maundering to do and I finished it like a week in advance. The day itself I mostly spent shopping.

It seems so indulgent to even worry about having a partner or not; and the little epiphanies that go along with that struggle are so smudgy with handling that they don't really bear looking at. "Heck! I'm a whole person after all!" and like this.

Someone called at 2 am last night. I struggled out of sleep and into a lacuna -- either I left the light on or I turned it on, and I had time to check the clock across the room behind a line of washing (n.b., [livejournal.com profile] inlandsea, [livejournal.com profile] stitchinmyside - I think the dryer is broken) -- yet I still had time to pick up the phone before it stopped ringing. So did they ring twice?

"Hello?" I said, in that universal bleary-beleaguered-ready-to-be-alarmed voice.
"Sorry." said a male voice.
There was a pause. I waited for "Wrong number," or a click.
"Hello?" I said again, uncreatively. Then the click. I *69ed, but the number was blocked.

No doubt trying to reach ex or possibly a cab. Though when I got up proper and found a city construction sign newly embedded in our lawn where I was sure it had not been the day before, I briefly entertained the fantasy that this was all part of some elaborate backhanded love gesture on the part of, well, I can't think who. Someone in public works, I guess.

Have been treating my life like a verb with a missing referent, as though my being were trying to limp along at the wrong valence. Don't know why. Phase, I suppose. Feel better now. Don't know why that either. Hopefully means I can get on with it. You know. Life. Being useful.

{rf}

recent card

Feb. 4th, 2009 06:35 pm
radfrac_archive_full: (oscura)
This is a birthday card that was never claimed by its intended recipient. Part of a series with some holiday cards made this year (though not as many as I meant to get done.)

Cut for images )

[livejournal.com profile] stitchinmyside thought it looked cool, so I thought I would post it. More images over on Flickr.

{rf}
radfrac_archive_full: (Ben Butley)
From today's discussion with the delightful Bee:

Top five famous(ish) literary characters you would have liked to marry/be involved with?

I have only got to two. Seymour Glass, OBVIOUSLY. Am pondering the others. I fell hard for Billy from the Regeneration trilogy, but I can't see marrying him.

My trouble is that I tend to fall for tragically brilliant villains who oppress the protagonists in subtle intellectual ways. Casaubon. Dean Priest. Clever men who are very bad for you. I am, by type, the noble but misled sidekick to the villain, the one who adores him but either betrays him for the cause of Good or is sacrificed for his escape.

{rf}

new poem

May. 10th, 2008 09:08 pm
radfrac_archive_full: (writing)
Divine Speech

Another thing you don't like:
people who try to speak
the unutterable.

You regret telling the story
of the vision
that moved me.

You tell me you're reading
a book about death
but you won't discuss it.

You won't go into my house
or ask me to yours
or eat food from my hands.

You won't talk about art
the last place
I thought we might be able to meet.

You call me up to go for pints
and talk about how good-looking
you used to be. Always
the same ten pounds,
gaining or losing. How
you used to be cruel
to ugly people.

I can't say
I never thought you were handsome.

I loved you
for the stories you told
for the vision
you wish you hadn't shared
the arc of your body illuminated
like a burning wire
by the infinite rivers
of divine speech.


{rf}
radfrac_archive_full: (Default)
I asked [livejournal.com profile] inlandsea for an atmospheric place to do some writing today, and she suggested the Abkhazi Gardens. What I actually ought to be working on is the last art project on my list, due May 31, but I needed the walk and the writing time.

In which our hero accomplishes his first real ramble of the season, witnesses many blossoms, and reflects on love affairs as works of art. )

{rf}

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