Sagittarius 7° (November 29)
The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 1211-1215 I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.
We were out the door at 6:30 and it was quite good walk. Not as good as tomorrow. I just know these things. Thinking about the gaslighting thing. And of course my mind made a joke of it. It makes sense that John Derian has a nineteenth-century aesthetic and vision because, as long as I’ve known him, he’s operated by gaslighting. It just might be something that Marthe Svenjördt could get away with.
Jokes of intros for curtain speaches. Definitely doing the Provincetown thing and the Wellfleet Jewish joke. Perhaps add a thing in about surfing. Maybe also the Manafort joke. I can’t watch tv anymore because you know it’s the same repetitive story and images on a loop. The one image that unfortunately stuck with me is that Manaforte walking shot where he shoves the cameras out of the way. His body language is so sick.
Went to the PAAM to see the Biala and the Helen Frankenthaler and both were amazing. It makes me so proud that we have such good art right here in river city. Sorry. I’m a bit punchy. Grabbed some salmon with cauliflower and spinach salad made dinner.
They used my sleigh joke tonite on Insecure. I like the show although it does sometimes seem to move sideways. I just hope nobody really caught it because it’s one of those jokes that’s so up from grabs Zeitgeist wise. Anyway, right now this Blague is designed to get my head on straight with only thirteen days to go before this fundraising year turns into a pumpkin which people in New England tend to put on door steps way too early. They probably do it in New Jersey as well. There is plenty of time when there is “collection time.”
I was struck in the letters Helen Frankenthaler wrote that she and Bob (Robert Motherwell, her husband) were working 18 hour days. Nobody ever really works 18 hour days. 12 maybe but not 18. There is a lot of faffing about in an 18-hour day, and one is so damn tired, they’re beat before they’ve begun. Like waking and baking, remember? How it used to just make you tired for your whole existence. Did you ever wake and bake? You’d walk around like a zombie. But there was that comfy cushion of it all. I liked pot before it became a super drug. Not that I liked really fatiguing dirt weed or anything; but I did like the kind of pot that didn’t make me feel like my arteries were about to explode sending me crutching, kneeling in the shower, running water over me bargaining with god if he would just make it stop. I don’t find that kind of marijuana very fun. Oh but I was talking about “collection time.”
“Collection time” refers back to when we worked in fashion and S aka L had her own sporstwear collection. Designing two seasons a year for a young designer is actually a lot and despite the unavoidable faffing about that was part of the picture (due to her partner, a too-rich-and-thus-totally-dysfunctional-and-immolized-creature who would show up to work wearing two differnt shoes or carrying the trash she was meant to drop down the incinerator in her building but instead took for a ride on the subway to their 40th street studio and showroom. Anyway….”collection time”, two but especially the one week leading up to the show/defilé required one live on about four hours sleep. Apparently, Helen and Frank got in a good six hours, which isn’t terrible, and they considered putting together party lists as part of their “work.” I do love both painters though I must say. But their party list reads like…oh never mind…there is no good way to make this joke without seeming completely anti-Semetic.
Another beach walk first thing this morning. The bittersweetness of the season has already descended. It was one of those magical mornings where the light twinkles like crazy and you feel like you’re inside Wrinkle in Time or The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. The walks have been spectacular although they are surely touch on the feet, I must say. I believe I can begin to make myself easy, but to do so I should dedicate this Blague, today, to my to-do list and just record all the random notes that have once again began to crowd the surface of my desk. We have one appointment today with a client in Munich and then I have a phoner with one in L.A.; though it’s cliche to say the one in L.A. could very well flake out and just not call at the desginated time. (As expected.)
I will aggragate all random thoughts and I will tie up all loose ends such that all runs like clockwork starting now (it already does). I needed to get sparkler level from Bai and perry’s and figure out who to approach vis a vis missionary sponsorships and update that doc, which I will do today. I will keep writing until my nerves calm down and I’m in the final stretch and trying to make sense of it all. I think I’m managing okay, all in all. And on deeper thought, I’d say, pretty well. I will sketch in Thursday for Hotels and Realtors, as they are an untapped but important source I ignore most years for fundraising because they are just so dire. Also the hotels already pay tax to help, so the best I can hope for is a little accommodation and anyway, theirs are the perfect places to peruse to make sure they have cards and such. Seaglass is especially on the to-do list.
I will indeed be introducing Marthe to the world tomorrow so I’m excited about that. I’ve put together three different mailers that I’m hitting everybody with and then next week I’ll go even wider for support. I have to also make a third doc for Brian King that combines Nefa Info up Front with Poster and Bio Info and send to the Nefa peeps to make sure all looks kosher. I can borrow from the Endicott release on that score.
Ugh I just got a note about our upcoming court case vis a vis the accident we had three years ago when some stupid idiot while texting plowed into us going a mile a minute while we were stopped in traffic behind a long line of traffic. I hate insurance companies and these kind of sick venal institutions that try to fight you for money when it is all their fault. I don’t know. I really am losing my faith in this country and the way things (don’t) work here. I used to be so proud of our functionality, dating back to Rondald Reagan who was a horrible person and president. Even his son, junior, seems to think so. What are you supposed to do with these kinds of people I mean really?
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°, for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360 degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.
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