Ladders

Back at the friendly neighborhood cafe, home of the world's most uncomfortable chairs, and the barista is a twenty-something kid with acne and hornrimmed glasses who periodically cranes his neck and shoots me a glance that says, "I've noticed that you've been here for an hour now and have yet to purchase a beverage." I continually look away. This deflection works...for now. But, alas, confrontation is inevitable. And I wouldn't mind watching this kid step to the plate and defend his turf against a shiftless layabout such as myself. It'd be inspiring, actually.

Sometimes ladders lead up and out of the mire. It is a wonderful thing when they do. Recently, my father fell off a ladder and broke some ribs. FYI: When you break ribs, it hurts like a mother. My dad, though, was cool about it. He didn't complain. "Coulda been a lot worse, " he told me. That's true. This is a kind of optimism I can appreciate.

Climbing ladders entails its risks. So there you have it: risk, hope, promise, ascension, disaster...these are the worlds that a ladder can span. This is my painting. I painted it in the Kali Yuga.