(present day diary of:) Electra’s dictionary as film noir (jmmusechron)/the artist’s as ‘madness’

 

so we go from plague to war 

I think about all my dead parents, the last two —now long dead, going on —what over twenty years now ….? 

weird …. I think time froze for me …. people think I am so young —it is some weird anomaly about me …. a deception of reality as —I am quite old ….they might call it fairy ‘glamour’; a charm…. no.but I think it’s because I got frozen at that age when they died  —or I just never grew up …. perhaps it is some kind of a form of autism linked with my being dyslexic and my other peculiarities …. 

My mother used to tell me how she talked to the walls. She told me that is how she spoke to her late mother; my grandmother. She saw the film Shirley Valentine…. I guess that is what the character did, so my mother embraced the concept…. for me I don’t even bother with walls; I talk to her because she has never left my brain and on hikes she comments constantly —I “should paint that landscape there….do paintings of those sweet cows over there—oh no, they are bulls!” and “….why have I never done more serious oils…. “

Today we talked about war. She reminded of how it was for her growing up ….the Nazis ….she said the air felt like how it felt today as we walked ….

Oh…. I saw a red fox ….

….I have been afraid in my life 

it just happened to me and I can say ….I am left to wonder …. what have we learned as a species? 

this version of human has not evolved because they keep doing the same stupid things and nobody does anything to stop it 

…. so as I reach closer to the age my mother was when she died 

and the other person who was my natural father …. life has always looked unlike how others have —taken their holiday photos— for me …. 

I think I am meant to observe 

always through the glass 

nose pressed …. from the outside 

looking in 

do you hear how people talk ….they need to do more action and shut up 

*********

And these are the thoughts on my mind as Jörn drives and only after a long moment has passed do I say,

“where are we going?”

but he does not say

….well, you can smell the sea 

It only now occurs to me that it has been so very long since I was near the sea ….it has always been a part of me and I suppose I find it reassuring to be near it

this I think about as as he drives 

“Did you fly through Baltimore-Washington Airport?” I turn to look at him because, still, he does not answer me 

“I did not fly….” he smiles at me and makes a gesture with his head at me to look 

Only now do I realize he has pulled past the entrance of a marina 

****

We get out and walk the pier

But what do I know of yachts?

“Is this a forty foot?” I ask (as if I know; I heard someone say it recently)

“I’m metric,” he laughs at me and points to the edge of it 

“What am I looking at?” 

And laughs at me again,

“that’s where you step on,” he says 

 je m'inquiète pour toi

Electra’s dictionary & film noir(jmmusechroncont) Je réfléchis à— pourquoi devrions-nous rencontrer maintenant?

 

later, as he drives, we head to Chesapeake Bay 

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I can feel his tension 

He scowls and makes that sound of frustration, there is no translation for on my app

“You’ve been out of the loop of things ….” he sighs heavily 

“Oh. You mean no internet ….is this about Ukraine?” I ask

He doesn’t say anything and hardly responds but I can tell by the tension in his shoulders and spine. After a moment still staring out into the horizon he says,

“I may have to go deep cover for awhile—“

“You’re going?!” I move closer to read his expression but his profile is turned to me. And I feel myself become upset —and it makes me think of…. another who was once left behind

after a deep labored sigh, he shrugs, 

“it’s just slightly too close to my own backyard to ignore this this time—as it will be for everyone—sooner than later—duva, you know, it is my work—you know that….”

“something that goes beyond life and time ….” I say and ….think about fear and trauma …. it is no way to live 

 “that’s why you asked if I am comfortable here…. so…. what….? I may never see you again—“

“duva—“

“—or just too late ….”

 or by some society who would respect my space & not exploit me

 but the problem is, I don’t want to ‘trend’ ….I’d rather be found by some underground subculture ….and by that necessary chance of those few who are out there like me —who were also in search of ….

ma muse, pour toi 🎟; mon guide à travers l'enfer

e.d. —thoughts today for the dictionary/as background backstory for series 4

so, what happens is that, it does trigger the old scars

 and the unpredictability of what will surface and when….

in the aftermath of the newest trauma

well …. as the layers of the sheild wall melt off, with the adjustment to quiet —it does fool the senses to relax…. so then like a bolt or smack like a crack of a whip 

….cannot stop washing…. it is as if it is all over my skin…. to scrub it off….can everyone see it?

….

 I will not be branded 

is it a scent?

….a song?

….a random flash of a memory or—the insensitive remark by someone of a reference to a similar experience 

like a power keg ready to go off 

no, I was never big on crowds anyway …. but I used to try to convince myself to think people were worth the effort but, now, I don’t know. I really like animals better. And trees. I know there are some ok people out there. somewhere. I guess. the ones who trickle through 

but lately I’d rather create my own world apart ….

every experience forms an artist. I cannot ignore my experiences.and my work could never continue in a vacuum. of course this is part of the work …. that was why it ever began; it is about truth and as my reactions of things that happen causes the course…. to flow another way—it is a pilgrimage 

I am different from who she was when the Dictionary began 

recreated so many times—does it make me a better tree with new rings?more rings…. the roots go so deep….

I am resigned I think to accept it as what “is” —while no, it’s no mistake I ever landed here, but to be a part of—only apart is that endurable and I just don’t care anymore if I’m to be called a loner or recluse because who says that no longer matters to me and it never ever had to

I see it now 

not everyone is meant to take down the house and I’m ok with that 

….why do people stare?