Today was a day like any other except much much better. I was greeeted at the door by a Witness and took their literature in honor of Orwell and being Down and Out in Paris and London and Honolulu and New York and Basel… etc.
Took the orange dog (Zuzu Pearl Bailey) to the park for the first time since her operation. She is now sleeping in fuzzy red ball on her gray bed.
Yesterday was full of words, so today I will try to tell as much as I can in pictures. Mentor is Orson and the collector with his arc along the watchtower.
The philosopher stone called his emmaculate collection The Ark yesterday. I laughed and thought of Kane. How could a man as young as Orson (or JMB for that matter) know so much about growing old. It’s like he told his own story before he lived it…Sort of like Heroes and me (Villain?…I try not to be)
I met a couple just back from their honeymoon. She plays a viola…suomething. A big viola and played last Easter in the Basel Munster. He is from Austria.
They gave me this 1968 film magazine, because I knew all the films listed on the back. Dustin Hoffman is my mother and Ben’s favorite actor.
And Bailey got to see her old friend and sometime sparing partner, Snowflake the wolf dog. I got to see Donna (brilliant handmade filmmaker, N.Y.U. multimedia teacher, and former RISD student of Dadi Wirz). We laughed and laughed and talked about movies and music and met the above couple and I quoted spalding gray:
All the stories I’m telling you tonight are true, except one: the banana sticks!”
Right on cue we came upon a pair of bananas just sitting on the stoop. Did I tell you my mom e-mailed from Spain just as I was writing about my dad’s last sleep? I think she may be the Good Witch of Long Island, or something pagan like that. My mom, the telepsychic.