shout out to father luke
so anyway, father luke moves in mysterious ways. sometimes he is content and sometimes he isn't. he makes more sense when he's content, and makes more art when he isn't. so you can't really win, can you?if you don't know father luke, you ought to.
i wish i knew him better. but sometimes you can know someone just enough, and any more breaks the spell. he has confidence in me. i doubt that would survive better acquaintance. and i hate it when people give up on me. it's an expression of their feeling of superiority, and i'm vain enough to feel that that feeling is never going to be merited. if only because i'm an egalitarian. on good days, i think we all have good hearts, blah blah, but on bad ones, i think we're all shit to the core.
i'll leave you to decide whether today is a good or a bad day.
i'll tell you what though, to give you a clue, it is now parrot season, and there were galahs in the grounds of zenella's school. here's a thought: i would have regretted never seeing a flock of galahs in flight, but if i hadn't seen it, i wouldn't have known to regret it. language is pretty thin for things that really matter.
really matter is an exaggeration because what does? i have changeable views on that score.
on good days, i think i'm better than you, because i know that i am deep enough to have gold at the bottom. on bad days, i think we are all shit to the core, because i know that we don't really exist and pretending hurts us so much that we break each other.
you know, that makes sense in my head, but somehow it didn't make it to paper, as it were. if this was a poem, that would have worked.
anyway, father luke made me cry today. in a good way. in case you think that's a big thing, let me tell you that i cry at any film that involves children dying of cancer, if i can get over the hair thing. i don't know what it is about children with bald heads, but i can't really tolerate it. i think it's because i like hair so much that i can't tolerate baldness. i favour wigs. i don't mean i favour them for myself. i will, like all my male ancestors, die with a luxuriant full head of hair. but i favour them for those of you who are lacking. it's not personal. i also favour getting your teeth fixed if they are ugly, and shaving if you have facial hair, man or woman. i'm not fussy on the shaving thing; any form of depilation is fine. in case you were wondering, yes, ladies. you know what i mean.
so i am telling you that one thing i would like is for father luke to sit by me as we drive through the backroads of qld, saying nothing, companionable, and watch wordlessly as galahs pass overhead, grey to pink to grey. because i believe he deserves it; i have faith in him and he has faith in me. i don't know a better way to be a friend to someone than that.
5 Comments:
and i hate it when people give up on me. it's an expression of their feeling of superiority
Not necessarily. I give up on people when their actions seem to indicate they don't care about me. It has nothing to do with superiority, and everything to do with protecting oneself from possible hurt.
i cry at any film that involves children dying of cancer
I don't watch films about kids dying of cancer. Or any other sad films if I can help it. The world is sad enough without watching more sadness on screen.
it's essays like these latest of yours that really makes me pissed that you wouldn't come play over in the bickerfest.
so much interesting, moving stuff to talk about.
I'll bring the ice, and beverages,
for the drive.
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See you then,
Father Luke
Padre doesn't allow comments.
I love Boot Liquor Radio, and of course KPIG.
I hate that I am so tied up in the life I have chosen to be tied up in that I can't make the four hour drive and get buzzed with the man while we look at Santa Cruz' flat ocean at sunset and talk and drink and smoke and say, yeah, Zen shouldn't worry, he'd fit in fine.
The talent Father Luke has I admire second best is his writing doesn't get in the way of his writing. When I write, I vomit a torrent of words. He, just a few brush strokes.
First, of course, is the observation. Seeing everything, while knowing what not to bother looking at.
Don said...Padre doesn't allow comments.
not altogether true.
been
H e r e
or
H e r e
checked out the links
H e r e ?
so, whatever...
- -
Okay,
Father Luke
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