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i returned from solitarily smoking behind the building, with the deafening air conditioning system as company. rising from Dulles were at least five airliners in the vicinity of the full moon... like lumbering moths with glowing eyes unswervingly crossing the glare. last year one of the inane local weather forecasters referred to the August full moon as the "Sturgeon Moon". Mr. Inquisitive began to wonder, through the power of Google�... "what jiveass names do the rest of them get?" to whit: Native American Names For The Full Moon (hence, there's no "jiveass" to it , at all) January - Wolf Moon February - Snow Moon, Hunger Moon, Opening Buds Moon March - Maple Sugar Moon, Worm Moon April - Frog Moon, Pink Moon, Planter's Moon May - Flower Moon, Budding Moon June - Strawberry Moon July - Blood Moon, Buck Moon August - Moon of the Green Corn, Sturgeon Moon September - Harvest Moon October - Hunter's Moon, Moon of Falling Leaves November - Beaver Moon December - Cold Moon actually, i think this one should be named the Flaming Asshole Moon... considering today's cast of characters. thanks to some frenzied activity late Sunday, i blew off work, yesterday. not that i couldn't have made the effort... it just seemed so... pointless. plus, Monday has become Doldrums Day: seldom do clients ever have anything printworthy so early in the week. so, what the fuck? it wasn't because the day was so stunningly beautiful (it was gunmetal grey), or that evening TV was so engaging (is 10.5 is a blockbuster, Cooking In Brooklyn is absolute mindfuck)... it was just time, y'know? time to lay in more provisions for the next batch of hot sauce (18 quarts on sunday)... making more inquiries on the legalities and other hoops one need pass through to be above board. infinitely more rewarding, so i've come to see... after walking inside these Gulag doors, again. employees dropping like flies. down to a skeleton crew, the admin drones are creaming their jeans at all the "value added" without having to pay all those pesky salaries. and their methods are... unsound. dictatorial. inconsistent. disturbing. such a pleasant way to return to writing, n'est-ce pas? i was in such a positive mood, this morning, too. for the first time in ages. somewhat like a poignant scene from Soprano's last night. Tony in Dr. Melfi's office... after an uncomfortable breakthrough, he took a breath and said: "you know, sometimes getting these things off my chest is like taking a big shit." Dr. Melfi: "I like to think of it in terms of giving birth." Tony: "Trust me. It's like taking a shit." that's what this morning felt like. minus the wiping and flushing. after what seems like years, i made good on a drawing project that i didn't really care for. an ex-landlord, computer geek NewAger asked if i'd help his with project of creating an online Reiki instructional by doing hand drawings as illustrations for the text... at five bucks a pop. now, if this is what you call new age medicine... thank god for drugs. not that i don't imagine that there might be something outside of the realm hospitals that just might be a better alternative... just not the way he does it. with him, it smells of "inappropriate". but, it was a discipline to put a pencil in my hand, again. before distracting myself with other things, after this morning's first cup of coffee, i just sat myself down and made it happen. two 11x17 figure studies, inked. after procrastinating for weeks, it was like the proverbial shit. complete. representational. and not one word of thanks, when presented to him. that was just the beginning. coworkers loved ones in comas after weekend accidents. one who left mysteriously, under a cloud. another, fired over the weekend. yeah, this was a Flaming Asshole Moon, alright. membership status ironed out. gobs of image space. rejoice. |
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