Solitude and The Metaphysical Nose


Today I feel like a bare bulb on a ceiling. My wife (her name escapes me, and runs downstairs) gives me a hate-filled stare, and throws the cat's crutches at me. I speak without saying a word. Her old fire is not there. Though I must say the reduction on heating costs are gratifying. Our relationship is at its most precarious. Who will suffocate whom first? Our bedroom has the icy coldness of an Alpine peak. And one does tire of skiing aficionados who use our sleeping habitat as a favorite ski spot. We attract the odd jet skier and the noise is horrendous.

I rarely talk or write about my personal life because none of it is true. Lately I've been getting up at 8 o'clock each morning. After I bath, shave, and have breakfast, I'm usually back in bed ten minutes later. Before lunch I take a long walk around my bed with the dog. Then we both start drinking heavily. I believe this is why I think and write at a quarter of the speed I used to which was close to half speed. For some strange reason I'm starting to weep a lot. At least it stops me from crying which would be disastrous for a man in my position; prostrate on the floor.

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I hated turning fifty years old, just as I hate suddenly turning direction in a crowded street, or turning the pages of a newspaper belonging to a person sitting beside me on public transport. I really should buy a paper of my own. However, I detest darting to the front of a queue to purchase one.  All I seem to attract are savage faces and angry voices. At such moments I seem to arouse the banalities and absurdities of the human condition best not talked about.  No one is shielded from the world, even when drunk, making love, or taking out the garbage.

*
Lately, I've been gripped by suffocating despair and anguish. I've been working on the draft of my first book Solitude and The Metaphysical Nose for over thirty years. (A romantic story based on an ugly adolescent who discovers a small turned-up nose under her bed, and suddenly she becomes a beautiful, intelligent seductress). Yesterday I flew to Moscow and got the first plane home. I only intended to get a jar of gherkins from the local store. To make matters worse I keep having absurd, horrible dreams: snatches of conversation, people, faces ... Faces I do not care to see, minds I do not trust. The worse dream involves being in love with my wife again. I use to fear death, now I fear sleep.
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Reflections: We are all vulnerable behind our public facade. Questioning our actions and motives continually. There is no cure for disenchantment except to yield to our vulnerabilities, lost illusions, our loves and daily life. While one's energy prevails one must struggle with equal ferocity against hate and violence without reserve.

Comments

Joni James said…
Beautiful! I just turned 50 this year. Love your description of "turning direction in a crowded street."

I think I need to go look under my bed to make sure there's a turned-down nose under there!

p.s.
I know where you can get a good deal on after ski boots. ;-)
Ronnie Kerrigan said…
Hi Joni,

I think my unconscious knows more than I do. Since I turned fifty its been communicating to me by email. How did get my email address?

For exercise I dance the 'French Can-Can' and sing, strut, and high-kick while working, driving the car, and walking the dog. Why my costume - an off the shoulder red & black halter neck corset top dress, with pom pom trim, and lace up back - draws attention is beyond me?

Anyway, your artwork is very exceptional. I esp. like John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, the Space Shuttle. Truly engaging.

Very best wishes
Ronnie
Joni James said…
Ronnie,

I would love to send you a print of your choice just as a thank you for your continued support and for providing me with some of my best reads of the week! Your writings always inspire me and somehow always provide that gentle tap on my shoulder reminding me of who I strive to be.
If you're open to it, send me your address to jettjames@gmail.com
You'd be the first owner of Jimi Hendrix if you want that one but of course it's your choice!!

Joni
Ronnie Kerrigan said…
Hi Joni,

Thank you very much for your kind offer. I must decline as I believe all fine works of art should be purchased to reward the artist for their time, creativity, imagination, heart and effort. I will still be the proud - and first - owner of one of your prints of Jimi Hendrix!

It will be treasured and handed on to the next generation, just as Jimi's genius continues to inspire and engage the human spirit of others.

Yours sincerely,
Ronnie
Ronnie Kerrigan said…
Hi Joni,

I received the Jimi Hendrix Calligram Print. It is quite outstanding, and a thing of extreme beauty. I am enthralled by its images of peace, light, truth.

My family and friends find it riveting, full of tenderness, magic, and imagination. The visual and emotional charge of viewing your art in 'hard copy' is a wonderful revelation in itself.

I wish you continued success with your art, and congratulations on your work so far. Good luck with future projects.

The packaging and your card (with personalised message) gives receipt of your work additional meaning and value.

Very best wishes,

Ronnie Kerrigan

P.S. Thank you for the Ornate Violin Art Calligram. It, too, is delightful, and belongs to eternity, as all great music does.