jolie laide

jolie laide

I started this when I lived in Brooklyn and struggled for grace in a city that grants moments of beauty and ugliness breathtakingly close to one another. Now I live in a place where things are a different kind of ugly and the beauty is pedestrian. I struggle with that.


Someone dared me to post the things I write and put away. Things that are too raw or too private or club-footed monstrosities. And so this, written in May:

For the past month I have been having this pretend relationship with the moon. I pretend it is in love with me, and I certainly am in love with it. I know this is not real, the moon doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t call me on the phone, we don’t have dinner together, we surely don’t have sex.

I have normal days. I don’t act like I am carrying this crazy story inside me. I wake up, I go to work. I see friends, I run errands, I take care of life. But at night, when I am done with all that, I think I might see him in my sky. Or I think I can tell he has been there. For a second the connection feels real, he really has peeked into my window, he really does know I exist, I really do matter.

Then I burn with shame at my fiction. This little story gives me such huge comfort, just for a moment, I am ashamed at how important it is to me. In that minute it is so absurd, so lonely, I am so absurd, so lonely, that I don’t recognize myself.


Blogger slickaphonic said...

it's always that which we wish to hide away that others most want to cherish...

thank you.

4:06 PM  
Blogger ttractor said...

thank you for receiving this. This was hard to post because I don't generally see myself as lonely. Absurd, of course, as that is an underpinning of the human condition. But this particular pairing of lonely and absurd seems so bleak, I would not have posted this if I did not trust that picture over to the left, where I am bursting with joy.

10:30 PM  
Anonymous famjaztique said...

I know this isn't really the same, but it just reminds me of this thing. When my son was little, he was in love with this local folk singer, Jon Gailmor. We bought his CD and there was a song on there, written from the voice of a little boy who had a friendship with the moon. This song would make my son cry, though he could never really explain why. Even when he was much older, a pre-teen and then a teen, I could play the song and the tears would just leap forth. Here are the words:

I know you're out there,
I see your light.
I think you're hiding
You know I'm right.

Show me your face
in my window
Don't be afraid,
it's only me.
Trade you a smile
for a peek at you
Make me laugh -
be my friend -
stay around.

Maybe they'll let me
stay up real late
I need to find you
I just can't wait
Hope you're alright
Do you feel well?
I'll be awake
until you come

Why aren't you here?
Are you mad at me?
Hide and seek
isn't fun

I'll get my blankies -
don't go away
I really need them,
specially today
Oh there you are moon,
finally found you
Where have you been?
Doesn't matter
Don't ever leave
I'll take care of you -
Hear me sing -
See me twirl -
Shine on me

I'll dance in the night
oh what a sight
a giggle and a wiggle in your spotlight
while I perform
you'll keep me warm
oh moon moon of mine.


I think you should buy this CD, put the song on your ipod, and dance around your bedroom in the moonlight!

11:25 PM  
Blogger ttractor said...

oh, Frou that is so sweet. thank you. This was, in part, a metaphor, a shield to hide my mortification at wanting someone who did not want me. There is a longer story here, and I would write it but it still continues.

10:38 AM  
Blogger famjaztique said...

I don't even dare to write the things at all. I won't even put them to paper in my personal journal. When I do, I tear the pages out.

11:58 PM  
Blogger ttractor said...

wow, frou, that's pretty powerful. I did go back a read a whole bunch of other things, but. Nah, I am not going to post them because I would sound like a maniac. The desolation in this one was shocking to me, even though I understand where it came from.

11:34 AM  
Blogger eastwesterner said...

I think he loves you, he's just shy. You can tell because he rarely shows his full self.

BTW, I don't get "maniac" at all. I get real, honest, true.

7:54 AM  
Blogger ttractor said...

Don't play with me, mister! If I thought he loved me I'd be back to howling on street corners in the night!

7:59 AM  
Blogger eastwesterner said...

Howling is good for you!

I do it whenever the mood strikes me. (honest)
(The wolf is my spirit animal.)

BTW, WEEKS ago, I wrote a longish reply to your John Lee Hooker reply and accidentally lost it before the final post. I kept meaning to get back to it. Maybe over the Holly-Daze! Sorry!

12:09 PM  
Blogger ttractor said...

gah! I hate that! You feel like you've had this long convo with someone and really, nothing at all has transpired.

You are forgiven. I know you are busy over there! Happy happy joy joy to you too!

1:44 PM  
Blogger cherrydragonut said...

Women are alot like the moon. We are both feminine -- keepers of time. We watch the moon and prepare for bloom! Rosh Hodesh is an ancient new moon holiday on the Hebrew (lunar) calendar. It celebrates women and their continually moving cycles of life.

11:45 AM  

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