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i don't know with whose eyes i was seeing, this morning. all was essentially the same as forever... the "forever" that i call "my" time. streets were all aligned the same way in their deviations... the seemingly random scattering of houses and businesses, intact... the diffused light from the humidity-obscured sun, what you would expect in high Virginia summer. but, all the same, all was not. cresting the highest rise above town, scanning the thickly tree-lined streets with the no-nonsense volvo windscreen as goggles, there was much more sky than i was comfortable with seeing. it gave one the impression that this was a mountain town, instead of the vine-and-weed-covered bayou illusion usually so predominant. ...investigating, interrogating the impression as the overdrive kicked in, downslope, the answer was made evident: standing low, like a gravemarker in front of the fortie's era brick duplexes, cowered the stump of what was once a gargantuan oak... now, reduced to a truncated cyinder, with a notch chainsawed...not unlike the back of a chair. one omission to the canvas, enough to alter everything. following an SUV with Louisiana plates through Main Street, i insinuated the wheels to the church lot on the right, convenient to the Post Office. objective, recycle anime. after the last gasp of the viking ship, a little sigh from under the dash, i looked directly ahead at the nave walls, crennelated belltower, small rose window, and smoky amber windows. the backside of stained glass, appearing on this side as if seen with cataracts... milky, indistinct, themeless. it's back turned to me. here, i was educated in the Rules. and the stories. how to read the staff, and sing in harmony. the taste of graham-crackers and lemonade. estranged from it, when i learned what hipocracy was, when richly illustrated in real time. not in horror stories, but with apathy... competition... scheming. casting my eyes to the right, two huge identical exhaust fans, like giant hubcaps, or strangely like gargantuan rosy nipples. mother church. blasphemy. the place where my parents were married, one year after it was erected... and from which union i sprang, the year after. so, this was my legally-recognized doorway into the World. does this particular door go both ways? not if i can help it. i have been looking at these objects without seeing. if they have become so familiar that they're invisible, maybe it's time to find new panoramas. |
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