Feeding the soul on imaginary money


Yarmulkes.jpg picture by pemerytx


It’s happening again.  I’m supposed to be working but I’m moving impulsively, compulsively about Blogworld.  My head is supposed to be in Utah, but it’s been to Texas and South Dakota instead.  And why, but for whatever starving good the act of reaching out provides?  Mental money, food for the soul.  A two-way, sometimes one-way street.  Please let’s not talk about the physical realm with its freezing gold impersonality. 


But how can we not?  Already winter is hinting strongly of its upcoming visit, forecasting our imprisonment in its subzero wind as popsicles forgotten in the freezer from summer.  Already the wood stove’s services have been begged and initially refused.  Oh, the protestations!  The billowing into the room, the coughing, the unwillingness to work through a burp of stagnant air in its pipes.  Yet how can I complain when I am the same?


Do what you love, the money will follow.  Here, kitty, kitty.  Just like a cat.  Would that love-money be more like a dog!  Like last night’s wine hounding me a bit, biting both pant legs the whole way on my morning run, following me around the house and to Portugal and Illinois.  Annoyingly, blessedly loyal.  The whole idea of it perched atop my skull, a dull, fuzzy weight, like a yarmulke covering my head in the presence of God. 


And is this not a religious ritual, this life, this wisdom-gathering, this humiliation, this coming and going and finally departing?  Yes, I believe it is.  And I could do with treating life with a little more love, just enough to up the ante on irreverence as required in the name of good writing, in the name of writing from eye level with the asphalt, from the dirt and trash of truth that punches humanity’s gut and rises up like indigestion to the heart of truth. 


Certainly, I could do with a little more faith in the turn, turn, turn of things, the seasons and times for things.  The play and now the work…


bukowski01.jpg picture by pemerytx 

“It was true that I didn’t have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?”
Charles Bukowski—Factotum, 1975


4 responses to “Feeding the soul on imaginary money

  1. How cool is this: back to ya roots, Lady A, free of the tyranny of the scribblers. Love the Bukowski quote: he’s a big favorite among my more enlightened junior Englishers, and why not. Love the quote. Here’s to better places than those usually reserved.

    Love, too, the cat/dog polarity. How feline indeed have been my elusive wealth and fame.

    Paragraph IV: gorgeous prose poem, as only the Lady doth make.

    Be well, and keep traveling.

  2. I would like to add another quote from the book and the movie Into the Wild (by Jon Krakauer):

    So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun

    And so many of us still do….

  3. Ah Mr. Bukowski, if you’ve found that place you’d better tell us. I’m still in that very same innocent stage of life when you still ask: but do I have to? No, really, isn’t there another way? Sigh.
    Maybe it’s the season to ask, then it will all turn, turn, turn and I’ll be one of those…

  4. Paschal, your comment was a delightful reward, well worth a bad Tuesday spent emotionally turmoiling down the tubes of mediocrity. Now I can barely remember the clockwise spinning. Your third paragraph will carry me a long way back up the tubes ;-)

    Well hello, Drumster! That’s a good quote. It scares me though, because mid-2006 I left a secure future for those very reasons and now I’m on the flipside freaking out worse. I musta done something wrong ‘cause this adventure seems to be backfiring! =:-O

    Exactly, Ms. Mood! This must be the season ‘cause I’m questioning it more than ever these days, hence this angst-filled post. But you, you’re on your way to prominence in the fields of psychology, astrology, and quite possibly famous knitted goods, yes?

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