Thirty for Sixty
Posted by Jona8than | Labels: art, economics, Giacometti, letting go, life | Posted On Friday, November 14, 2008 at 1:39 a.m.
"I've been going thirty-for-sixty
without the five ever since.
The hole grows deeper and deeper.
And now it's my turn to bid again.
I don't have the five in my hand
and I've little else to go on.
But what the hell!
Thirty-for-sixty!"
Al Pittman
Leaving to go back to town tomorrow. Home for a funeral. I have my thoughts on it, it being my first, but I'll leave them to myself. I dislike the language associated with it, but its just twiddling thumbs really. Talked to the minister a bit at the funeral, nice guy, said he'd like to stay in touch. Maybe he didn't see the Nietzsche in me, hard to without such a mustache. Hard to say. Can't tell the mind of a squid.
I go back in town. Look for a new job. Quit my other job. Not that it was helping me that much to live anyway. I get a paycheck this week. None of my prospects turned out. Shouldn't of though they would. Trying not to get down on it, it's part of the game. So I'll look for more things, do the art in the meanwhile. Glad I have St. Michael's. It really keeps me afloat...in the psychic sense that is. Really my sole reason to be in town at all at times. Only way to keep the art flowing. Wish I could figure how to throw a bit of my creativity on my economic situation.
I hate that 'economics' rears its head all the time. It's such a bore and a vulgar thing to be doing so. If it bores me, I can only imagine the reader.
Read passages of "An Island in the Sky" selected poetry of Al Pittman. Always cheers me up a bit. It feels like something is being missed by me. I read works by him, and it always feels like I need a little more living. I can never seem to let go. Would love to go for a long drive somewhere, find some nice town and drink an afternoon away.
Would also love to wear a suit and draw pretty girls all day like Giacometti below.
Really need to be poetic in my writing. Feeling lame
without the five ever since.
The hole grows deeper and deeper.
And now it's my turn to bid again.
I don't have the five in my hand
and I've little else to go on.
But what the hell!
Thirty-for-sixty!"
Al Pittman
Leaving to go back to town tomorrow. Home for a funeral. I have my thoughts on it, it being my first, but I'll leave them to myself. I dislike the language associated with it, but its just twiddling thumbs really. Talked to the minister a bit at the funeral, nice guy, said he'd like to stay in touch. Maybe he didn't see the Nietzsche in me, hard to without such a mustache. Hard to say. Can't tell the mind of a squid.
I go back in town. Look for a new job. Quit my other job. Not that it was helping me that much to live anyway. I get a paycheck this week. None of my prospects turned out. Shouldn't of though they would. Trying not to get down on it, it's part of the game. So I'll look for more things, do the art in the meanwhile. Glad I have St. Michael's. It really keeps me afloat...in the psychic sense that is. Really my sole reason to be in town at all at times. Only way to keep the art flowing. Wish I could figure how to throw a bit of my creativity on my economic situation.
I hate that 'economics' rears its head all the time. It's such a bore and a vulgar thing to be doing so. If it bores me, I can only imagine the reader.
Read passages of "An Island in the Sky" selected poetry of Al Pittman. Always cheers me up a bit. It feels like something is being missed by me. I read works by him, and it always feels like I need a little more living. I can never seem to let go. Would love to go for a long drive somewhere, find some nice town and drink an afternoon away.
Would also love to wear a suit and draw pretty girls all day like Giacometti below.
Really need to be poetic in my writing. Feeling lame
