clear cold light of morning

Fall.  The light has changed.  Today the fog again all around the house.  Cold.  An appointment today.  Dentist.  Paperwork.

I missed him yesterday.  I did.

There are so many things in a marriage that attach between two people.

We need to speak to each other realistically now.  We do.

There are fundamental things the house needs and I don’t know how to ask him.

I need to have a job again.

I need to have my own money coming in.  I really do.

This is like being at the bottom of a well without a rope and staring up at an opening.

I think I just decided it has to be for me now — something I want, or need.

Something of the arts.  Like I wanted.

I tried here.  But I couldn’t.  I don’t think he cared.  I could never talk.  So how could I express?

Very difficult — It’s like I want a piece of joy that the rest of the world feels?

Maybe that is freedom, somehow.  I don’t know.

I can’t take the stress I have been under for so many years.  I think that is what the progressed moon is telling me.  I looked at the transits for the moon and by Christmas it is in Cancer which is the sign of it will be exact on October 22nd which will be the hardest — and then it will move slowly off.  I wanted a home.  I wanted to invite people over and  I was always too embarrassed because of what wasn’t getting fixed.  It hurts me now, to think of the years and years and years.  The simplicity and beauty it all could have been.  I can see how the house depresses me.  I need a place that “works.”


I just needed a simple life.  The life of an artist.

I just needed a studio, and supplies.

He bought me a wheel but he didn’t mean for me to be a potter.

I need physical contact.  I do.  Being held, god.  It isn’t asking for much.

I need his help to sort out the bills and complexities, here.

When I look at the house I see what was abandoned.

It and me.

For years and years and years I had to look at this upstairs until I just can’t stand to see it anymore.  It’s small thing like that.  I saw some paneling that would fix this for about $50 dollars worth of wood.  I can’t look at it like this.  I can’t look at myself, either.  It hurts too much.

The kinds of things that matter to me don’t matter to him.  That was his room, upstairs for many years.  An incredible room — knotty pine.  When we first bought the house I wanted to make love up there — that first night, and he said — “not on this carpet.”

That carpet is still up there.

The ceiling is still the same, since 1988.  I stopped going up there some years ago, so it is strange to be here now, alone and go up there to review the past.  Under the carpet is a fir floor.  When he takes the rest of his things out, I will uncover it.  The contractor told me he would help me panel the ceiling.

A beautiful house is what this is.  I want to leave it better than I found it.


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