Found Objects: A Bear With No Name
This was the bear that comforted me, age three, after my older sister sat me in front of a TV, gave me a spoon and a giant bowl of cold mashed potatoes, and told me it was ice cream.
This was the bear that comforted me, age three, after my older sister sat me in front of a TV, gave me a spoon and a giant bowl of cold mashed potatoes, and told me it was ice cream.
Nourishment, enjoyment, sharing, pleasure, life. Do what you need to do. These are thighs. Be sensuous. Get serious at last.
Someone had called him a caretaker, which sounded admirable, but he hinted the role was lonely. I thought he probably had no affection or tenderness in his life, and maybe worse, no one ever stepped up to say, “I will take care of you.”
As I have struggled occasionally in a time of disease, conflict, division, heartbreak, and financial precariousness, I have tried to understand what is necessary, what is still good.
The salon is a different idea, and I like it. In the old days, a salon was a carefully chosen group, often with different views, who gathered to talk about literature, art, politics, and current events. The space it happened in was more intimate and private than, say, a coffeehouse or pub, perhaps even in a host’s bed chambers.
Nearly a year ago I was an extra (“background”) for the third Guardian movie, shot in Atlanta and due to be released in May 2023. When filming for that portion wrapped, producers asked if we wanted to stay on another week or more to shoot the holiday special.
We may not know yet all we have suffered, let alone any of what we will. It is easy to feel small and alone. I am thankful for the constancy of small things.
Yesterday was the first time I have seen him on the big screen, and I had to stop myself from telling the box-office person and film festival volunteers that I knew someone acting in the film I was about to see.
Courtesy Creative Commons Share Alike 3.0 ee I was in the library when I heard the young man talking on the phone: “I got our one-billion-dollar lottery ticket, so I feel like we have to be prepared. ‘What would you do?’ my wife asked me, but to…
In the Halloweens of my day, in a defunct little coal town in the Midwest, we had a hell of a good time.