he was a desk clerklate night shift at one of the buildings in downtown Portland, she had been in prison for a year, and allowed to live in the quadrant, a hot zone of new releases, free housing and recovering folks, some not so able, to recover. They were mildly affected permanantly defiant and discredited by the scars on their arms and faces, toothless and balding, wearing leather on very hot days, and looking rather faded. He liked to find someone to believe in him, someone that would love him.
when she came in and asked for her key, he said to her " you are a friend of my friend, arent you?
she said "307 please"and looked at him like he was crazy
"friend of my friend"
she called me and said that he wanted to talk, about being my friend. she did not want to converse about it
we laughed
the cab drivers have a language that is seperate from the english that most people speak in Portland, the herpes tria-angle, the little town of meth-la-ham, and various other slang terms describe the people that I want to help. social work can have a humorous side, i suppose, if you do not have to look at how any of this has affected our children, our lives, and the wars on televison keep on like some kind of a flu virus that keeps spreading, and we keep buying more stuff, and driving farther and farther to get somewhere, sometimes it is just away. "getting away." what exactly am i really getting away from? my self, my view pionts, my problems. my lawn that needs to be mowed? the get a way- mmm sounds kind of expensive., and alot of work to make the perfect sound stage, right scenery, lighting, costumes, make-up... sex, love and videos, popcorn, and ...
I read somewhere that the best kind of politics is the kind that is a statement about your own choices." like commit yourself to a piece of ground, care for it, take care of it"
I tried that, found myself herding buffalo.
guess I just have to commit myself to making the world a better place, some how. sometimes being an artist is the only solution. sometimes it is part of the problem.
tonight i was walking around the art studio with my pants falling down, i am on the atkins diet, and it works so well i was almost in a uncomfortable sitaution. i told some stories, that just happen to be true to my teacher, that was really the first time i let her in. i was so busy fighting that off. maybe that is part of the get away? like how can i learn all i can learn form this professor and move forward? Gosh where do we get these ideas? "clean get away-" i was the one that got away"
fact is we don t get away.
we come home with alot of laundry and a buncha bills that we wish we did not have. then i buy tea water for a dime and bring my own tea bags to school. drank alot of mint tea last week.
i do wierd ideas like" I loved a guy with red hair once and he hurt me", so now i treat all people with red hair with a certain distrust.
Yeah that is a winner.I am real proud of that thinking.
After getting honest in front of the whole class about vulnerability, they were totally cool, and gave me some great feedback on my work.
"It is alot easier being honest with artists"
bullshit
it isnt any easier with artists than it is with drug addicts or blue collar workers, being honest is not always easy, it is hard, and uncomfortable sometimes.
Why? cause ya feel like an ass
different
freaky
oh well
i found out almost everyone feels that way.
the desk clerk had never really considered loving anyone else.it was all about him see
and he was thinking that i was going to help him. I did. I helped him to see that if he does not find a way to get happy he will find some drugs and slam it, real quick like. he liked misery.
some people like to sit and think for endless hours. i think that thinking is kind of over rated like marriage. love is great ,sex is wonderful, but thinking sucks. i would rather be moving around.307 is a friend of mine, she is funny, laughs, tells great stories fast and with energy. I wish that i could do more for 307, and get her out of the quadrant. it concerns me that the city of portland puts people in the building together in the sector with hardly any skills but the ones that got locked up with.
sometimes it feels like a trigger happy insane asylum ready to go off down there.
