Saturday, February 21, 2009

this life and all my lives, now and ever

In the lowest kitchen drawer where resides all those nasty things
like balls of string and small tools film reels glue sticks four million highlighter pens a roll of orange ribbon broken pencils staplers with no staples referees whistles ...
you know, that drawer. That nasty drawer, which will bite you if you put your hand into it.

I found this

Amongst these nasty things: a little journal full of drawings. I have no idea why it was there, but I had not seen it for quite some time, and  there were no dates.

I wondered if it was from when I went to Paris one time 
when there was a huge El Greco Exhibition.

Or when I visited the Prado. Who knows? 
I suspect, however, this little Infanta rarely strays from her wall in Madrid.
 Judging from the final page, it was long long ago, though when I read the words, I could have written it not very long ago at all...

even though I have now worn my face
for much longer than I had then.

here I draw an epilogue to this dream that really happened
and now this moment and every moment is the culmination of all 
dreams the wondrousness and
tragedies of this life and all my lives
now and ever.


genevieve said...

Does it become more dreamlike as we go along, I wonder?
This is a great thing to find.

meli said...

oh, lovely. i sometimes smile when i find old notebooks (an occupational hazard when i was moving house last year) but nothing as wonderful as this.

and thank you for the bergen contact - yes it's a long way from here but any academic contacts are good!

and your shark post is lovely (and frightening) too. sorry for lack of responses, the cat's got my tongue at the moment. (or the thesis, you know...) heh. i'm blaming everything on the thesis right now. michael tells me he's expecting a personality change as soon as it's submitted. we'll see. he's probably right to be skeptical...

fifi said...

I wonder, genevieve, am I still dreaming a dream that really happened? And am i really still that girl in the diary dreaming of the future??

Meli, sometimes when I find old journals they have a healthy dose of black ranting: I used to console myself by writing so it isn't always great reading...but I have a lovely collection of diairies full of sketches done in grand and wonderful galleries around the world, very nearly my favourite pastime still.

I don't wonder you can't speak! I can imagine how occupied you are!
and yes it would be great to run into Kate one day...

Anonymous said...

Oh yes, I love to come upon old scribblings (I found some when I picked up the copy of Oliver Twist to take to Oz) - never drawings with me, but just funny little statements. And however long ago they were written it is always the case that I could have written them yesterday. Nothing much changes - not in my head anyway.

I do so wish I could draw. It adds another dimension entirely - words are fine but sometimes they say too much to capture a moment, a time. . .

We call ours the Crud Drawer - and mostly it is full of elastic bands.

Ampersand Duck said...

I read it aloud to myself, and maybe it's the 'now and ever' bit, but I had such an urge to say 'amen' at the end. That's not a bad thing, BTW. It just felt like a little prayer to the universe :)

meggie said...

We have a drawer just like that! I never never has yeilded such treasure, as your's has!
Your pretty face! Beautiful.
I am so glad you still have that to keep forever.
Both Journal, & Face!

fifi said...

&duck, yes, it's like the Glory Be.
beworldwithout end amen)

I was such a drip. Nothing's changed.

Gina, I dont know why but elastic bands seem to be the only think not in there.

Meggie: you are sweet. Mostly that drawer yields broken remotes and torches...I think I know who hurled my treasure in there though.

Ulrike said...

Nothing so interesting in my bottom kitchen drawer. Different mess.

Finding an old journal is such a good surprise. Sometimes the old drawings grow into ideas for new drawings...or words. I especially love it when that happens.

eurolush said...

Beautiful sketches, beautiful sentiment.

What a treasure.

It's like receiving a letter through time from your past self.

Nicole Campbell said...

I just found you, promise! And then I wanted to read through your archives. I love your photographs, paintings and writing.

the projectivist said...

how wonderful!
i know that feeling - i felt it when i found those old diaries of mine.
it was like discovering some other Me.

little red hen said...

What a lucky find. What do you mean the bottom draw that's full of odds and ends and odd messy bits and pieces? Aren't all drawers like that???
you have had a very interesting life Fifi. I'm waiting to do my tour of the worlds wonderful galleries and fill some of my own sketch books. I cringe when I open old notebooks as I find that I have changed quite considerably and some of the things I wrote while I was married make me feel very sorry for that girl- I don't actually know her at all. Then some of the hopeful scribblings of myself as newly separated are just a tad too perky and hopeful!!!

Bryan said...

**off topic** Sorry. Go look here Fifi. Go look here Fifi. I think you will evjoy the visual input a bit. Turn your sound on.

Bryan said...

Ooops. I stuttered. It's a different form of art. I think you'd appreciate it.

Isabelle said...

I have written diaries since I was 15. Why? What will I do with them? Your beautiful sketches are far less embarrassing.

Fifi, when are you going to write a novel?

Isabelle said...

Oh, and yes, the flowers photos were taken yesterday.

Luhlahh said...

How did you go in the harbour swim? I presume that the sharks left you alone, else there woould have been something in the news!

Just thinking again about Whaledreamers. There is stuff there you might like/use but please be warned it really is a silly, overblown, confused and pretentious documetary. Rent it and keep the remote close by for FFW.. . X L

Spruce Hill said...

What wonderful drawings. I see a lot of talent there! I am not sure where my drawings are from school. I might have to look around for them.

Did you go to art school?

Anonymous said...

That must be remedied. When I get home I'll send you an elastic band ball and you can put it in your Crud Drawer! They are nearly all pink ones cos those are the ones the postman drops on our doorstep every day.