588. January 22, 2012…Visibility… a few miles…maybe a few feet…

"When I Thought I was Lou Reed" ©2012, Robert Redus

“Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head.” – Chuck Palahniuk

I’ve not been reading that much lately…really not at all to speak of and I think it is because my magic carpet has been temporarily grounded…in for a few minor repairs…and small adjustments…and very soon..I will again be airborne….

the obvious is often not there in the lens…not because it is not…really there…it’s just not visible…you know sort of returning to dot…i’s and cross t’s…as what really is important is the penmanship…the grammatical construction and the punctuation…rather than the true gristle and meat of the sentence…paragraph…words…it becomes filling a void…only because a void is there…and because it’s a void…it clearly needs filling…

I knew a kid that had a scar across his left eyebrow from his brother’s inaccurate golf club swing…or rather….he was standing to close to the recoil…but either way it was a clear path of eybrowless…rippled patch…bisecting his eyebrow…it was brilliant…a real ice breaker and conversation piece…something he would have for a lifetime…I always talked to the white hairless patch of skin…which I’m sure most everybody did…there were a few dots from the stitches themselves…a raised rather larvae looking scar…with small little rib like discolored skin going across that…I’m certain under a magnifying glass it was a completely other world down there…the impact of the wood…fattened his brow a bit so it appeared his eye was considerably smaller than the other eye…many years later it looked like the golf swing event had happened just a few days before…I never could figure out why years later it looked just as bad as the day the stitches were removed…he seemed to have held on to the scar…was all I could think…

I awakened the other morning to these words… “wash your face“…where they came from…what they meant or what I was supposed to do with them was a mystery to me…at first I thought someone was in my room…talking to me…I then thought maybe it was divine intervention…a message from the afterworld…..or perhaps the cat coughing up a hair ball…I’ve washed my face  a few times since then…nothing miraculous occurred each time…then I got it….

I lived in a small beach community in Northern California…the entry to my house was a  glass sliding door covered by a wooden carport….each morning I would fill a large bowl with water…set it on the porch rail…I’d walk past the entrance to the carport look to my left and there was the Pacific ocean a few hundred yards away….straight in front of me was a long abandoned military installation…just the concrete foundations remained…they were over grown with a myriad of colored flowers…I’d pick a few flowers and return to the carport….where I would set the flowers down…and wash my face in the cold water from the bowl…I’d then float the flowers in the water…sit for a few moments and take every bit of it in….it always worked….

as a child….I always wanted stitches….

“Hold me in your arms, lava lamp! Let me seek magma comfort and peace in the warmth of your kryptonite embrace.” – Isabel Yosito

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