(Meredith Frampton)
Disastrous start to an early day. I have a mandatory meeting early at the factory. The maids come today, so I must clean before they come, picking up the accumulated dirty clothing from various parts of the house, stripping the bedsheets and pillow cases, taking care of the massive pile of mail laying on the floor. I hear it before I see it. The coffee maker has malfunctioned and coffee covers the countertops, drips onto the floor. The cleanup takes my minutes for coffee and computer away. I will have to dash.
The meeting is with the CEO and the anti-union lawyer. All the foremen and women will be there. There are only a few of us who are radical left. I need to be careful today. But I am tired and worn and still have a little of my psychosomatic cold. Stress kills. I may don a jacket to remind myself that I am not who I am today, a tangible reminder of the role I should play. It should be easy to remain quiet so early in the morning. My voice will still be weak, my joints creaky, my mind a heavy mess. I will strive to think of foreign ports in other times, of daring men and seductive women, of danger and escape, all the romantic images with which I was filled as a young boy. This to counter the sanitized evil that passes for clever thinking in many arenas today.
I love the civility in this Frampton painting, the sensuality of the flowers, the tight suppression of the hair, the suggestiveness of the red shoes. I should do this, do a series the reverse of what I have been doing, suggest repressed desire rather than the other. In the "Lonesomeville" series, what emotions are locked behind the seeming sexuality of the bodies displayed? Please reference theories influenced by the Postmodern Andro/Menopausal era. Open book. Feel free to discuss among yourselves.
enigmatic that painting. unless it is just a simple portrait and i am projecting onto it. which is what i guess one is called to do when engaging in the arts. right? well i do. i want to take part all the time.
ReplyDeletei didn't buy the reference materials to partake in the discussion -- were they listed in the syllabus?
are you sure you aren't just dom? no harm you know. at least for me. some of my favorite people are part of that society. :P
Theodore Cleaver as a dom??????
ReplyDeleteO.K. I'm dense. I even Googled "dom." I thought I was waaayyy out of things. Am. It is convenient, I think, to frame people to fit the narrative. I love to play with stereotypes, so I guess I must suffer being cast as one. Wink. Nod. Overt irony (I think that has another name). Kick the cripple for being inconvenient. Yell retard at the handicapped. It is all good fun. I'll grow a mustache, put on my boat shoes and thread my nautical belt into my khaki short shorts, and I'll put on my Tony Bahama shirt. We can drink Margaritas and listen to Jimmy Buffet on the wooden outdoor deck with women who have bluebird tattoos on their ankles while I make laser eyes at the twenty-one year old waitress who treats me nice for tips--up to a pathetic point. "You look like you could use a massage," I'll announce with the voice of experience and wisdom. "Be right back, Sweetie," she'll say, and I'll lean back and smile at the other DOMs who pop thumbs up. Later, when the fellow with the acoustic guitar begins to play a "blast from the past," I'll jump up to dance with the drunken woman who has the bluebird tattoo and pretend it is nineteen-something again to the hoots and hollers and "whohooos" of the other time travelers.
ReplyDeleteYup. DOM.
The doms I know are nothing like u write. Maybe it is a google issue.
ReplyDeleteI don't know any but have heard things...it didn't fit with the image of have of you!
ReplyDeleteNo, no. . . it is just the way I am.
ReplyDelete