not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

aging, a joke

so, a cat and three women walk into a bar.
one year later the cat is white. no shit, white.
what happened to the three women?

ok, so it's not a joke but it is funny, what happens to us in a year, and how that might manifest itself.

my son's birthday: my mom, my sister and i sat in the living room, my mom just over 70, my sister 50, and me 40.  it just didn't make sense, you know, and yet it did.  none of us felt like the other looked their age and none of us felt that we ourselves looked our age, our age some kind of cheap lens that passes over us.  and none of us felt that number either.  and yet, and yet, one year later my cat is white.

i want to be an old woman with sacs of skin and still feel what i feel.  now, that would be a joke.

4 comments:

  1. i love this picture! the blackness of the lens is expanding. i'm a little concerned it might overtake you.

    jokes are superfluous when there's life. it's not just funny, it's funny and...
    so it's more than funny.

    i've never looked my age. i move between eight and eighty.

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  2. it'll be either blackness or whiteness forever expanding that takes over us, won't it? i think the key is to not be afraid of it.

    eight and eighty. i believe this. i've known this of myself. maybe that's why we recongize one another? we oscillate in a similar time fashion?

    xo
    erin

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  3. My grandfather always said he never felt old. He didn't mean it like a cliche; he always felt he was thirty-ish...didn't really recognize the man in the mirror. We all have to move through he curse. Get up and go on.

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  4. i'm relieved, ollie. i never have to feel a number. i hope not to. i don't mind the skin sagging and all that. it just seems odd. as though the spirit is a ripe nugget and the skin a bit of a flaccid joke.

    xo
    erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))