Some unstructured impressions of this last week or
so: Samhain. Halloween.
Remembering Paula dying, I think it was 2005;
looking like she was dying as I sat with her sleeping body on Samhain evening,
as my daughter was out “trick or treating.”
Sitting and handing out treats, while inside my
stereo plays its standard Halloween fare:
“Danse Macabre,” Carmina Burana,
Ruddigore, Symphonie Fantastique, “Night on Bald Mountain.”
Wondering once again whether to put my costume on at
work.
The Unitarian Day of the Dead service, and the South
Bay Circles Samhain ritual.
My costume this year: “Rent-A-Beatnik.” I wore it to the South Bay Writers annual
Literary Costume Contest; to the South Bay Circles Samhain; to coffee hour
after the Unitarian Day of the Dead service.
Listening to the audio book of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Lots of drugs in that book, and hallucinations. Listening to the audio book of And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks,
by Jack
Kerouac and William S. Burroughs.
A fairly straightforward book.
Sometime in the last year, Kerouac’s Tristessa,
a very drug kind of book. Also heard One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
Kerouac, Kesey, Burroughs, Thompson. So odd leading up to Samhain/Halloween.
Then the “gay” books: Stuff by Andrew Holleran and Felice
Picano. Drugs…Sex…and Childhood.
Thinking of my childhood, and how I feel now: Old.
Thinking of my older sister who died earlier this year, and the older
sister who is still alive, but a continent away. Thinking about how we come to terms (or not)
with our environment as we are growing up.
Yes, a time for reflection. I’ve thought about old friends and old
girlfriends and an old boyfriend; and about places I’ve lived. Time flows on, winter approaches.
Well, and so we move towards winter and the winter holidays…Season
of Reflection, “Season (perhaps) of Melancholy”…
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