Week Two of fasting has begun. Only fruits, vegetables, rice, juice, some oils, and mild seasonings for the next week. Last night, after a meal of the best stir-fry I've ever eaten in my life, we all went for a neighborhood walk at sunset. Along the way, I found a couple of envelopes in our mailbox. One was addressed to me. It was from the University of Oregon. As far as rejection letters go, it was a pretty direct yet empathic one. (The worst, by far, was from Montana, followed closely by Purdue.)
On our walk, we talked about the clouds. We saw a concrete angel attached to a wooden post. And out in front of the old Christmas tree farm - now a homestead - we saw some of the trees leftover from back in the day. Uncut, they had grown to mammoth proportions. They were forty feet high. Maybe more. In the distance, in the middle of a field, an old T-model Ford was quietly rusting.
I built a fire last night and Eleanor stared into the embers. At the perfect moment, an automatic fluorescent security light popped on in the front yard, casting eerie blue-green shadows. Certain gnats danced in the glow. Old Stella rolled over and grunted.
In our last week in the old house on Tallassee, I painted six new paintings. These...are they.
No comments:
Post a Comment