rlbourges

On the theme of reversals

In Drafts, Hautvoir, Music, Revision, Sanford Meisner, Sundays on June 21, 2015 at 6:55 am

calling it a cosmic joke  is a wild overstatement that suggests the cosmos takes enough interest in me to play practical jokes for my sole benefit. So let’s call my present circumstances a familiar pattern, one in which I find myself in a daze. Call it hitting a wall, if you like. A series of actions done in anticipation of a given result – poof. Another hurdle shoots up like in one of those video games where nothing but the fastest reflexes will save the player.

So. Energy. Whatever keeps the body committed to the next, and the next, and the next after that. Singing, for instance. Instead of one performance last night, we did three short sets in front of a small but enthusiastic crowd + one person soused to the gills who staggered in front of us and came close to colliding with our toes, the piano, and the stray dog always available at outdoor performances.

Prior to the morning rehearsal and as I left a rental agency, I ran into one of several women in this town who consider themselves faith healers. By keeping your mind focused on the word faith, I’m sure some, if not all, their interventions do some good to people whose self-confidence has shattered against some unexpected problem.

My focus was elsewhere so I couldn’t help noticing that the fantastic tale of ‘space cleansing’ she told me about her home involved a discrepancy: in the first flush of telling, she informed me someone had died by hanging in the bedroom. She had sensed this the moment she set foot in the room. On further elaboration, the dead one no longer hung from … from somewhere in the room she showed me. The deceased had been blown away by a rifle shot. Space cleansing handled that clean-up just as well.

I enjoy a good yarn myself, and I’m not averse to a stretcher here and there. As much as humanly possible, I try to reserve the more fantastical to the realm of fiction. In fact, a lot of the lying I do is for the sake of plausibility. On the drive home from the concert last night, I simplified my personal story line a lot for the benefit of the driver. “You’ve led an interesting life,” she said anyway, and I’m not sure she meant it as anything other than an expression of perplexity.

Today, there’s a high probability I’ll work in a nap to my desirable options. If I don’t, I’ll probably fall asleep on the chair because, sometimes, bodies are smart enough to cut off the juice and give the system some down time.

 

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