Post by goldenmyst on Dec 7, 2021 10:11:42 GMT -6
Cézanne Illustrates Carmen’s Diary
“My diary is written in liquid words which steam into the mist in maiden eyes whose secrets lack only the brushstrokes of a Cézanne for the words to find a home.”
“I appreciate the compliment but I am a dilettante painter. My art would splash into your script and cover the written memories that are so precious to you.”
“If I lose a jot or two it is of no consequence. Just be careful and do your best. Your pigment on my paper will make my scribbling art. My inking will be anointed by the stain of your palette as though your essence was poured into my heart where blood-red wine turns into libations for the Goddess.”
“But the record of your past will be ruined beyond repair.”
“My life has been a series of emotional catastrophes. Those pages are better served as a colorful art gallery. That way the hints that remain of my past won’t overwhelm me. But your happy images will compensate for the surviving history of my disasters.”
“I’ll paint in the margins to reduce the obscuring effect of spillage.”
“Feel free to read as you go. I fancy the juicy parts being your muse. Especially the chapters about when I sprinkled orange juice on your lips and licked it off.”
“You spoke of your roving tongue in the past tense but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“A girl can daydream. But just because it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it is fiction. My diary is a story that foreshadows the future.”
“What if I don’t want tarot for breakfast?”
“My memoir uses literary devices that aren’t true fortune-telling. And the wonderful thing is that the plot is subject to revision at any time. Since it is an ongoing journey there is no denouement. We are on a bird-watching expedition to see the Roseate Spoonbill who feeds in the silence of solitude like us when we sleep and dream.”
“My diary is written in liquid words which steam into the mist in maiden eyes whose secrets lack only the brushstrokes of a Cézanne for the words to find a home.”
“I appreciate the compliment but I am a dilettante painter. My art would splash into your script and cover the written memories that are so precious to you.”
“If I lose a jot or two it is of no consequence. Just be careful and do your best. Your pigment on my paper will make my scribbling art. My inking will be anointed by the stain of your palette as though your essence was poured into my heart where blood-red wine turns into libations for the Goddess.”
“But the record of your past will be ruined beyond repair.”
“My life has been a series of emotional catastrophes. Those pages are better served as a colorful art gallery. That way the hints that remain of my past won’t overwhelm me. But your happy images will compensate for the surviving history of my disasters.”
“I’ll paint in the margins to reduce the obscuring effect of spillage.”
“Feel free to read as you go. I fancy the juicy parts being your muse. Especially the chapters about when I sprinkled orange juice on your lips and licked it off.”
“You spoke of your roving tongue in the past tense but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“A girl can daydream. But just because it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it is fiction. My diary is a story that foreshadows the future.”
“What if I don’t want tarot for breakfast?”
“My memoir uses literary devices that aren’t true fortune-telling. And the wonderful thing is that the plot is subject to revision at any time. Since it is an ongoing journey there is no denouement. We are on a bird-watching expedition to see the Roseate Spoonbill who feeds in the silence of solitude like us when we sleep and dream.”
