And so, many interesting things have happened. I was able to get work study back, and with the addition of work study, I was able to get $2700 bumped out of my loan for this year, so this year I’ll only have about $1500 worth of loans, which is definitely good for the future.

Other than that, I’ve been working. Alot. And it’s been good, for the most part. And I’ve been trying to write, and read more. It has it’s moments.

Reflections, 1981 (by yours truly)

I lost myself inside a Rothenburg tonight
and it felt like Finally!
Finally it is more than just
my unopened text on the shelf.
Finally, I am being dared to keep
this page open, like
a secret that I can’t contain.

Admittedly, it’s been awhile
since I’ve had one of those.

And so, Reflections, 1981, haunts me
from page 328 of Art Fundamentals.
It is the jab from a prize fighter
tearing eyelid from eyelid with
his uppercut
so that I might see.
It is the drip in the faucet
down the hall that is keeping
me from
slumber. A drip that suddenly knows

I will drown in this tempest,
this Oil on canvas storm.
The water is so gray I realize there is
no reflection at all. Two yachts
nearly collide, and a third finds itself
far, far away,
emerging from the waveward wall

haunting the crews of the other ships
like the textbook page haunts me.

Unless, yes… I get it!
That third ship… That apparition
with it’s furled sail, like the frightened ships nearer,
it is but a mirror image
playing across gargantuan faces
of God’s good ocean
gone wrong.

Next to the picture, a caption
freezes my thoughts with how
the text likes to play it’s
know-it-all game with me,
likes to show it’s superiority
with its knowledge that
Susan Rothenberg became famous
for her early impastoed,
monochromatic horse paintings
in the 70’s. Looking at it now,
I can easily see why she
changed her mind
in the 80’s, and why I must
hold my opinion tighter
than ever before:
no horse, however monochromatic,
would survive on a ship
caught in the middle
of a wide-eyed,
abstract,
throw-the-paint-across-the canvas,
toss-the-viewer-into-oblivion,
kind of storm

like this.