Feeling Like Keaton

Writing interrupted.  It is Mother's Day following a full moon and a long day that ended at the beach and then with the drive home to cook fish and then to clean and to fall asleep in front of the television watching half of a rented movie.  It is warm here now, too warm for the time of year, and it brings the promise of a violent summer as the ocean waters warm.  I will take some mothers out to eat today and give flowers and presents.  I will try to make people happy.  It seems difficult, sometimes.  

There are too many days of recognition, I think, too many days when I am required to stand at attention and serve.  Other's seem to relish these times of celebration, but I always feel myself disappointed and a disappointment.  I am not even good at my own birthday.  I dread the day it rolls around.  

I do what I can and try to make up for it by buying expensive gifts, but you know how that goes.  I am simply not able to adopt the big, toothy smile of homecoming kings and game show hosts.  Not close.  I feel more like Buster Keaton (click for montage).  

Here is another image from the series.  I am too much in love with them, I'm afraid.  I told my friend CC that I thought they looked like the images on old Cigar Boxes a little, and he said that was a great idea, suggesting that I could present the images that way.  I looked online and found a place that sells raw cigar boxes, so I will try that.  Inside will be unframed pages from the series.  But I need to find some stamps and paper seals that are apropos.  That, I think, will be the difficult part.  If any of you have ideas, let me know.