Sinister: auburn...leviticus

[Kirsten Kenyon]

  the sky was an odd smokey blue color (i believe crayola used to 
call it "cadet blue") and made the factory district look very red as 
i drove over the bypass this afternoon.  they're not factories 
anymore...not most of them.  i've often thought about renting a 
studio space in a certain warehouse with a tall brick tower, but if i 
worked there i'd have to live there...studio space isn't cheap, i 
guess.
   sometimes it looks like it might be fun to wander around the 
burned-out factories and the warehouses under the bypass.  so i did 
it once and, believe it or not, it was something less than 
thrilling.  i'm not sure what i'd expected.  that was years ago, and 
what i recall of it now reminds me of "sunflower sutra" which, in 
turn, reminds me of a seemingly-sweet boy from leeds who turned out 
to be quite unpleasant.  or i could look on the bright side and have 
it remind me of someone genuinely lovely.  either way, the factories 
aren't all that interesting and my copy of sunflower sutra is gone 
for good...somewhere in leeds, probably shoved under a dirty ashtray 
and forgotten.  
  i had a good giggle over caleb ben's al caplum joke.  i don't know 
why, but something about plums strikes me as silly.  maybe it's the 
fact that my dear grandmother once got confused to the brink of 
laughing tears trying to play "clue."  or it's the memory of being 
drunk off wine in the afternoon, sitting on a park bench in nice with 
aimee, giggling and feeding plums and brie to an ugly mob of moulting 
pigeons.  or it could be ezra pound.  and if it's ezra pound, it 
might as well be a boy i used to know who once described a bottle of 
gatorade in his refrigerator as "so sweet and so cold."  gatorade is 
certainly funny.
   tonight i enjoyed my tea and the company of a nice boy named 
matthew, and we talked about sacré coeur and vonnegut and easy 
cheese, and a strange man at the corner table yelled something to 
matthew in a language i didn't understand, then walked by and dropped 
a folded napkin in front of him and said "enjoy.  is for free."  i 
giggled, thinking that was a funny thing to say when handing out 
one's phone number.  but it was a napkin full of marijuana instead, 
and i gasped and matthew giggled and stuck it in his bag, and we 
talked for a bit about amsterdam, and when i think of amsterdam i 
think of my poor lost sketchbook and a pub called the blarney stone.  
and of quentin tarantino and the hotel tamara and acrobats.  
  leslie and i had something of a tournament tonight...taking turns 
balancing on a giant red "exercise ball" and timing each other on a 
little silver watch.  there wasn't a lot of space and it was quite 
dangerous, really.  no blood was shed, but the contest ended with me 
standing on a chair with a mouthful of screws, trying to reattach a 
curtain rod to the crumbly plaster wall.  old houses like 
that...you're really not supposed to put screws in the plaster.  but 
someone renovated and took out the crown moulding...anyway, i'm not 
exactly bob vila and we ended up sticking the bracket to the wall 
with masking tape.  pretty shoddy work.
   and so.  it sounds like chicago was a good time.  the art 
institute is nice.  the last time i was there, i saw some 
installations by bill viola.  raining and burning and owls and 
televisions and a birthday party.  and we had thai and wandered into 
a church and ran through a sprinkler, and it was supposed to be a 
field trip but mostly it was just walking and looking at frank lloyd 
wright coffee mugs and smoking cigarettes.  
  well that's quite enough.
  love kirsten


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