I barely moved yesterday. Something was wrong with me, but I don't know what. Mental and physical, maybe. I am stressing in ways I've never believed possible. At night, I wake up to possible catastrophes, things that might go wrong, potential health matters. . . . During the day, I never feel rested. Maybe I am wearing out. I tried to walk it off, but afterwards, I was just truly exhausted, so I made some lunch and stayed on the couch until bedtime. I called my mother and told her I just couldn't come over. I pulled up the cache of movies I have selected on Amazon.
The first one I watched was "Electra Glide in Blue." 1973. I saw it back then and remembered that I liked it. Robert Blake is wonderful. The cinematography is beautiful. The movie, except for the music and the chase scene, hold up well. Not many films from that time do. I recommend it.
I got a drink. Next I watched "An Honest Liar," a 2015 documentary about the magician The Amazing Randi. It was fascinating. Randi was a magician who began debunking psychics and faith healers. In this he was damn near perfect. The upshot, though, is that people don't want those things debunked. They'd rather believe in supernatural powers. Of course. Again, my strong recommendation.
I decided to watch a film about a fourteen year old Dutch girl who sailed around the world solo to become the youngest person ever to accomplish the feat. Of course I did. The film, "Maidentrip," is ostensibly about her sailing voyage, but her true voyage is the two year transformation of a 14 year old girl to a 16 year old young woman. The transformation for me was startling.
Finally, I watched "The Last Safari," a documentary about a photojournalist, Elizabeth Gilbert, who returns to the Rift Valley of Kenya with the book of photos she took of the various tribes of the region a decade earlier. She wanted to make a documentary about sharing the images. What she finds, however, is not the Land of the Lost but a Land Transformed. Nobody wants to live the traditional warrior's life any longer. They want modern conveniences, and most of all, money. She realizes that she has probably romanticized them in her photographs, and rather than a journey into the past she has taken a journey into reality. The Africa we want from old documentaries is long gone, and it seems that Africans are glad.
I haven't sat in front of the television for an entire day since I was sixteen, I'd guess. But somehow, it seems satisfying. It has been raining all week here. The ground is sodden. More rain today. I feel sorry for the feral cat, but she seems to be fine. Tornadoes touched down near me last night. I kept getting emergency alerts on my phone. The tropical season seems in full force here now. Full moons and tornadoes, pandemic and riots.
I don't know, man. I just don't know.
ReplyDeleteIt was quite warm and humid yesterday - we had a bit of rain - but nothing major - about .5 inch or so. This morning it is cool - cool enough to use a wooly cover and close most of the windows. There is a breeze - 63 degrees with a North wind blowing about 14 - 15 mph.
It feels much better than yesterday - which was just too quick - too hot and humid. I can't imagine what it is like where you are.
My son in Philly has been warned of tornadoes nearly every night for the last 6 - he too wrote something similar with the photos he sent from Philadelphia - the streets swarmed with National Guards people - with big rifles guarding Rite Aids or CVS. He lived in Boston when the army was rolling tanks down streets in the midst of the Boston Marathon Bombing suspect hunt. Hunt - it was a hunt.
He remembers 9/11 -
He's a depressive kid. I gave him everything I could give him - smothered him with love -trips all around the US and World. I read to him every night until he said he was going to take over that duty. At one time he dreamed of living no where - just around the world. Writing. He is now self-quarantined in a small apartment - and purchasing items like a 'prepper." A special water container was the last thing he sent a photo of " my newest addition."
It amazes me that people keep bringing children into this world. I mean - I know that doesn't stop - but it's certainly not a right world at present.
Anyway. I'd really like to make a large Bloody Mary full of horseradish to go along with my shiitake, gouda egg breakfast burrito. But I really should try for something productive ---I might -after walking the dogs make a "to -go" and take a ride somewhere.
It is so quiet in the house - I could also be tempted to just go back to bed. But there's always tomorrow for that too.
So it seems.
Oh sweet Africa. I emailed my friends there early this morning. How I miss them and the bush and the cities -Dar - oh - the photographs there. And I miss especially, my George.
I wrote this for him. We had been out - for longer than anyone else - too far - where we were not supposed to be - sitting in the midst of the The Great Migration. We had crossed into Kenya - by accident and just before we were taken into a type of "custody" by the Kenyan officials - we were sitting in a small pool of water in the Land Rover - surrounded by all those wildebeests and zebras - snorting and running the ancient path - just taking it all in - when directly to our right - a splash and the flash of a leopard - hunting.
George had never seen a leopard hunt in the water like that - but in a magic second - the leopard seemed to disappear into the water - just dissolve.
He talked about it - a lot - around the fire that night. With that big African moon above us.
To Mollel, After Safari
The red vein road swirls
down around the crater
we fly over
on our way east
to Zanzibar –
clouds throw shadows down
onto the plains
- familiar shapes
hippos and twigas
We are quiet --
in our veins we carry a new blood
a drum throb and pulse of the Wild ones
For Jillian, the dumas or baby tembos
Eddie, the heartbeasts and gazelles, Jean
the orphaned wildebeasts needing new mothers
Who travels with me?
I wonder as we pass
Moslem women wrapped in vibrant colors
on busy market streets
the bush - too far from me now
the Indian Ocean crashes
in view
But of this I am sure --
there - in the corner of land
where Kenya & Tanzania kiss
for many nights
the leopard of the marsh
paces the moon of Mollel's dreams
Hell.
I'm going to wrap up in my Masaai cloth and try to conjure all the scents, noises - spells of that beloved - beautiful - tragic continent.
ReplyDeleteI feel as though I might have told and left that poem here -before.
It isn't the only story I have - of Africa - there are so many - but they are so close to my - well my whole being it seems - it is taking years to process them out into words - stories or poems.
I weep just typing this thinking about it all.
Wanted to apologize for the repeat performances - I'll just apologize here as a blanket for all my repetitions - just chalk it up to - I'm old.
Did you say a Bloody Mary?
ReplyDelete