http://the-difference-between.com/light/eye

reformative training



the social work intern is surprised that the youths must squat to greet visitors to the centre. the shock puts him in a sombre mood.

-


the social work intern has an immediate sense of the loss of dignity among the youths when he sees them squatting at toilets in full view of the staff.

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the social work intern arranges a game of crab soccer. he want to slow the youths' dynamics so he can observe them more closely. he's here to learn. everyone on their hands and knees.

I sat here on this sofa and spoke very quietly to you. And I cried. It's so warm and safe in there. Nothing will harm you. I am not sure I can think of why you would want to come out. I'm not sure I want you to come out. Can I think of a reason? It is very beautiful out here. There are amazing things out here, every day. Wait till you see the sky. And trees, and birds. And you'll meet your grandparents - you have so many - and they already love you so much. We'll travel, we'll go and see them. And we'll see where they live, which is your home too. We've got everything ready. Almost. Close enough. It's okay to come now when you're ready. 

but we didn't go then - not till Tuesday night. I think we left at 7 or 8. there was a lot in between. and between that and the moment of bloodwarmth, both wet and dry, limbs full, both wet and dry, warm and weighted on my chest and in my arms - he is this sealed thing, he has his own weight.

fifteen weeks later to try to remember is like a balloon submerged and trying to get up. I sat down on the couch, I said you can come now. before that is a daisy day. empty hands. oh what am I to do. the house was quite clean. so I spoke very quietly to you and you heard. and then the waves started lining up in rows. that evening was sunday and I was suspicious. 7.09 am Monday I wrote to Nic:

5.56

6.05

6.14

6.24

6.35

6.42

6.57

7.07

From shops:

For me:

Snacks: bag of nut/cranberry mix

Tomato juice

Coconut juice

Rock melon

Mandarins

A couple of big choc/apricot cookies or similar

Tea lights IF you can find them without huge mission

Snoring stuff

For you:

A couple of freezer meals (take the freezer bag) for the hospital -

get us a couple for home too.

Fruit?

Nuts?

Muesli bars?

Crackers?

A focaccia or pull-apart?

Think high carbs, low fat.

Other pressing business: prep camera.

Change of clothes for you

Something to wear in the bath

---

and later, at 7.11:

Also

Petrol

Your toiletries

Ma Mere L'Oye

"Here we hunt for shady corners; there is no fire at the Mallarmes', and Ravel is working. The big flies are humming. The dragonflies have thrived. They look like winged sausages."

Maurice Ravel to Ida Godebska in Madrid, from Valvins, September 18th,  1908.

a clock stutters the undergrowth into its largest form. grow, grow out of the purple home but do not leave. tendrils come around the fingers, come to the palms. here, open, a field for sunlight. the petals dry, the parachute ball opens into a full sphere. and your shoulders take the wind into their remembrance. that little turn, dégagé. could be anchored in a warm bed, a cool bed of swaying glass, where the pickerel kiss and leave. their flanks become the weeds. their flanks express an ambivalent current, a current which wants to love but has no form.

learn this with the governess. up the stairs in a chalk stroke, like a clock remembering the shades of her face. brow, temple. brow, temple, cheekbone, lip. the window, its shutters. the windmill unthreshed. is it such a long way from here? across the air, across the matchwood acres to your home. and still the loom is pouring hill and hill. 

keep for me the stores of gold. keep for me your heart. keep for me the winnowing of wheat into a bath of liquid sun. 

14 Bagatelles

""May thirteen medicine shelves
Be emptied for your sake;
May nine cartloads of hay and straw
Rot in your bed.
May your towel spit flames,
May your washing water turn to blood."

                     Or on the other hand

"May God smite you with bred bought for money,
With bread bought for money, and a whoring wife.""

Bela Bartok recounting the curses of jilted Hungarian girls in a letter to Joseph Szigeti, 1944.
(468-469)

1
a sun-dial is poured over with fermented apple juice. a monkey's leg is broken.

2
go to the tailor at the hemisphere's end. he is waiting with the longest tape-measure for your arrival.

3
children swing themselves under the shadow of the tower. no one asks to be pushed.

4
her jowls were the foundation of the family. often I came to visit when I felt my heart was broken and she said oh, it's just a little flake from the outer edge.

5
the ships danced around each other, their compasses in love. storms came again and again but the sun dried the waves as they broke across the bows.

6
I kept going over to their house. she kept closing the piano lid on my hands. her father blinked vigorously thirty times a minute. her ponytail was pouring out of his hand. sally lun, they would say together, sally lun sally lun.

7
so many things ran out of the coldstore once the door was opened. the spirits of our siblings who had not visited for so many years. the spirit of the steel rocket frame stayed in the back corner, begging for the door to be closed.

8
ribbons line up with forks. she is engaged to charcoal now. her mother counts it as her finest achievement. conversazione is caressed and laid on a pillow.

9
come to my house. grandfather pours water on the smouldering mattress if any hare sleeps in. oceans do vaudeville that's just the front door. and under the house is the turtle.

10
announcement today about the crossing. the lights are broken. everyone who came late to this planet will have to wait in the lane. nausea is to be noted on the punch card. speak to his gun in the laundry. if you see your rocket out the window it is Matthew's now give us your license. give us your license.

11
the turtle has a lot of kisses for black latex. that is what we all walk across. it wobbles and the turtle's white eye exudes a friendly tear. that'll dry up to fine salt.

12
run for an election. catch the old filing cabinets. in former hospitals everything stretches to a point. ink falls on the students, very accepting, a little wishful.

13
the bird stops in the reeds. slide down into the water. hold the end of a feather so you don't drift away. when he's ready to leave he will dive, and hopefully come up underneath you, who for now mustn't move. though the water is cold. your knees are frozen against your body. and you can barely feel the oily feather in that hand. morning wanders in every direction on the far side of the world.

14
the correct pronunciation is Bread. Bread. let queues part to your perfect posture. you can only feel the subway with one hand on the cobblestones. will everyone fit down those tunnels. will everyone let you hover with your hand on the rail. or can you sweetly approach the counter alone. her whiskered face. she does not know that word. it is perfect on the shelf. it cannot be purchased by you. 

"Really, today I can scarcely remember what belongs to me: but one thing must be granted me (I won't let myself be deprived of it): Everything I have written has a certain inner likeness to myself."

Arnold Schoenberg to Alban Berg, Berghof Am Ossiacher See

From Lugano, 9 August 1930. 

"They used to sing, in Italy -- now, no more -- blows, discordant chords, false expression, diaphanism -- opalism -- lymphatism -- All Celtic diseases -- a true ultramontane contagion -- But to return to us -- just exactly how far have you got? Why am I left alone like this, with constantly broken promises?"

"Not a word from Giordani -- The house of Ricordi is silent -- is it under the incubus of the fox trot? I don't hear a thing from Milan any more.

Giacomo Puccini to Renato Simoni, Milan. 1st May 22
Letters of Composers through Six Centuries. Compiled & Edited by Piero Weiss. Philadelphia: Chilton Book Company, 1967. (436)

he turns his hand and brushes the back of it against the back of mine. he lifts his hand then does that again. he reaches up and clasps the seam of my vest between his thumb and fingers. he pulls his hand away. he reaches up and does that again. he watches his hand and separates his fingers. he watches my hand and opens his fist, then closes his fist. he closes his fist around my finger. he opens his hand. he closes his hand around his hand then around one finger. he opens his hand. he brushes his hand against my chest. he lifts his hand and then he softly does that again.