Archive for January, 2013

mac bowel

January 30, 2013

mes amis

life is nothing if not a series of strange coincidences, n’est pas? i write to you from a colony .. no not a penal one but an artistic one! macdonalds is the oldest artist colony—not to mention fast food chain—in the united states. or does that distinction go to the in and out burger? at any rate, one can feel the ghosts of past artisti! thornton wilder, i tip my hat to you. now get me a happy meal. gluten free bun. and step on it!

happy meal large_0

c’est delicieux!

anyhoo. imagine my surprise when no sooner had i dropped my bags in my “monday music” studio to discover the names of playwrights, poets and composers past. there on the “tomb stone” as they call it (always macabre at old micky d) was the name “C. Dale Young.” i shrieked and lept off the bed in both surprise and delight.

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john hancocks of macdonald fellows

in my salad days i was on the staff of my college’s art and literature magazine. my matriculation to stylus was more a reflection of my hope to overtake the magazine than a genuine interest in art and letters. alas. i would succomb to stylus even attempting to make it good. after all, it was the only group of misfits who would have me. in my final year as editor-in-chief, i relished my authority even though i did none of the actual work. leave that for the grammarians. this kippy still don’t know her commas from her colonoscopies!

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semi colon

anyhoo. one day there was some kind of lecture convening. i arrived rumpled and late. no surprise there. to my intrigue the speaker was not the typical BC fare but a handsome man of ambiguous ethnicity sporting a fine suit. he intoned instead of spoke. perhaps i misrecall him as pompous in my head. i cannot know. i just remember being enraptured. he informed his audience that he was a poet and a doctor. “I don’t know why people always act so surprised,” he declared. “I see poetry and medicine not as mutually exclusive tracks but subjects that work with each other.”

i leaned in. might i be able to do incongruous things with my life too? C. Dale Young was an accomplished man of medicine and of letters (he had recently published a poetry collection). might i one day do something, anything with my life? ooh the hope of youth! the lecture’s lasting impression on my impressionable brain creates a nice confluence of coincidence pour moi as I attempt to write my own poetics here at macdonalds. now, where’s that happy meal?

the day is a misty gray one and i am anxious to dig in. but what of it and how of it? how to dig when the weeks lay ahead, sprawled out like a lover on a bed? i don’t want to get everything done at once. nor do i want to stress myself out over the making of the art, bien sur! the yoga felt good this morning but can I keep this up? perhaps I should have brought my water colors…’twould have been a welcome distraction.

i suspect my moon boots will be getting a lot of good use.

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the finest footwear

i do hope that the snow doesn’t all melt. i’d rather have a cold snap, long johns and all, and feel winter proper than be in the wilderness of global warming with mucky downtrodden fields. but these are just one colonist’s wishes.

a bientot,
kippy

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end of conversation

January 23, 2013

mes amis–

i recall joking with a friend in my jeuness that the end of phone call chats was always an awkward moment of wrapping up.

“well, i should go”

“i should really let you go”

“ok talk to you later”

“wellllllllll”

such euphemisms for “i no longer wish to speak with you, but please take no offense!”

phone-call

my friend and i joked that a simple phrasing: “end of conversation” would un-sully the tireless weeds of getting off the phone. the endless empty pleasantries.

fin.

fin.

recently, i have taken to saying “take care” at the end of my formalized business related chats. why is this? i used to hate the expression “take care” and mock it for folksy charm. “take care”? ooh please! this too is an empty command. and yet in recent times, due to my nature as a media mogul, i can hear the anxiety on the other end of the phone. artists who are grateful–and perhaps sometimes a little grating–as they express over appreciation for being covered on my web log (and other media outlets for which i write).

“well, you can’t imagine how much this means to us”

“we really, really appreciate being mentioned. even in one sentence.”

“we’re more than happy to send along photos if you need any.”

to all of this–and more–i simply say “take care” and i have an end of conversation.

relax

sweet relief.

kippy

ps next time i will get into national do nothing day, liliuokalani, hawaii’s last princess, and of course the life and times play.

pps look for some special guest posts coming soon!

game on!

January 9, 2013

my friends–

if you do not know about this fine show, seagull (thinking of you), but it opens tonight and i highly recommend you see it. i caught a glimpse of a dress rehearsal last night and its just superb, heartbreaking and a hoot!

fly !

fly !

a bean-toe,
kippy