I've always had a fascination with insects - when little, it manifested as fear. As an adult and an artist, repulsion has been replaced by awe. Bugs are so beautiful in construction and coloration that Ifind myself capturing and keeping them to examine and occasionly, use in my work.....the attached is a fine example of a life terminated in order to serve my pleasure.
I am in a secret relationship. Night after night we open a bottle of red wine together, and get lost in each other. We share long, deep conversations that travel every subject in a single stream of thought that we think only each other can understand, we dance together like no one is watching, we talk to each other and for once have someone that actually listens without commenting, sharing with each other that comfortable simplistic feeling of just being, bursting out in laughter for no reason at all and no need for explanation, feeling emotions that we have only been able to share together, not a moment between us for judgment to sneak in and tell us we are wrong for being together. And yet with all these wonderful moments we share together we are so utterly alone with each other, because the person I am in a secret relationship is, me.
Here are 123 corks from the different moments and times that I have shared with myself and held onto that represent the secret relationship I have had. I would like to share these moments that I have selfishly enjoyed and not shared with others. It is time me, myself, and I see other people.
I’ll confess I hold fear for what others might do with their guns and hate and spit. How can I dismiss those undercurrents that drag down hope? Many incidents told me I was marked or not welcome here:
The cop who said Shut the Fuck Up! when I started to speak for a friend during a stoplight intervention; the busboy who spat in my bread basket at a restaurant after 911; the passengers who got up promptly then moved away when I entered the CTA car; the times I got picked out of airport security lines and drilled; the Federal Marshall who cut in line and followed me to the plane then took the seat at my side, asking questions, asking questions; the woman who phoned the police to come pat me down on her street as I walked to my teacher’s house for a piano class; the car of rowdy flag-bearing young men near downtown who screamed the N-word and told me to Go Home as they sped past; the female guest at a bridal shower hosted in my home who asked if I was the hired help; the plainclothes officers who patted me down one evening as I walked to the park with my unlit flashlight held down; the man at the farmer’s market who ignored me and continued to serve customers on a sunny Saturday morning in Autumn.
Steely as I am, I hold fear for what others do with their prejudices. I confess, too, that I’d worked hard to dispel my own.
Never mind niceties, I'm just going to come out and say it: I cheated.
I cheated on my morals; I cheated in school and at work; I cheated emotion; I cheated fatigue; I cheated the system.
Faced with temptation and the ability to respond in a way that would yield whatever results I desired, I was a goner long before I made the appointment with a doctor.
As the euphoria and energy of the love affair enraptured me, every trace of hesitation quietly dissolved into the background.
Apathetically, I contemplated a way to end the affair, since it was only a matter of time before the risks grew more substantial. Until, alas, I was caught.
My heart crumpled at the realization I would never again feel such perfection. Had I known the end would come so soon, I would have cherished the final days of my love affair more carefully.
Today, the better half a year later, I think back fondly on my experience.
I long for the confidence I felt. I miss the control granted to me for such a brief period of time, a control I mistakenly thought would last forever.
Given the opportunity to do it all over again, I must confess I would do things differently. Given the opportunity to do it all over again, I wouldn't have allowed the affair to end.
I've always had a fascination with insects - when little, it manifested as fear. As an adult and an artist, repulsion has been replaced by awe. Bugs are so beautiful in construction and coloration that Ifind myself capturing and keeping them to examine and occasionly, use in my work.....the attached is a fine example of a life terminated in order to serve my pleasure.
A vote for him gave me confidence but
t going to come out and say it:
