Sitting on the deck even though it’s just about to rain –
back from long bike ride watching family barbecues. Will I ever have children? I feel so exactly balanced between Ryder and Devon like a ball in the air
– but could fall at any moment. Finished The Edwardians – made me long to read Trollope. Vita Sackville-West’s work is like a death wish.
Maybe Pevensey Library can rise to some Trollope. Downy woodpecker
2 ft away.
Finished The Dark Island! An outrageous howl of
self-pity! Mom & Dad called all worried about Avril. She & Mason had to borrow money after selling $4500 worth of stock in June! Dad wants to deal financially with Mason instead of his own daughter! I was cool and stayed out of it.
I don’t even want to imagine what they say to the others about me. I sent Avril a letter that said I would buy her a round trip plane ticket any time she wanted – even for just a short visit. Talk about work and suffering! I’m sure she feels stuck in every way with this guy. Down to a dinner of bouillon & smoked oysters.
Tues 16 Aug 77
D’s & my relationship “plateaus.” Each of us may have
given all we can spare. At least there’s no Mutual Punishment.
Womantried to get me into conversation at mailboxes – she’s an accountant whose boyfriend works on missiles. God they both sounded like the dullest people imaginable. Tried not to blanche.
6:00 PM Couldn’t resist $10 phone call to Avril. She’s
hanging in there but doesn’t like Calif so far. She’s not going to school because Mason thinks he ought to be able to pay for it! So, so sick after using her money to live on. She’s looking for some clerk job. Still thinks
this guy might be The One, even though sex is once a week and she’s not satisfied. After that I called Devon who should be back from psychomotor class but he wasn’t in.
Midnight – Could get psychotic about D not returning my call – however I refuse. Let the poor man live. He lacks time for an ACTUAL other girl (although I know there are plenty of letters & phone calls with girls he cultivates.)
10AM – Wed 17 Aug 77
Devon woke me up in the middle of the night, wondering if I was “psychic”. He’d had a horrible day – had to take a “pregnant friend” to the clinic for abortion (not his kid.) This is a new one. Can’t imagine him lying about something so bizarre – I didn’t ask for details –
just told him it was a “sudden impulse” (true). Called the bank – my money was in but only $987 (it’s never as much as you expect.) From shit comes flowers, as they say. Called Marc Kramer and left message whether I can hitch a ride to Maine with him (he goes almost every weekend).
Finished Life of Waugh. Cramps.
Sat 20 Aug 77
Poor Devon! He brought pizza and a very good brandy –
(too good – drinking it woke me up in the middle of the night) suggested a movie. I said I wanted to Talk. Told him all about my week; everything –
novel, phone call with Avril, breaking up (mentally) with Ryder because I “realized there’s another way”. Felt it was time to share. He asked if it had anything to do with him I said it did but he shouldn’t panic – it’s a good thing. He asked did I want to know about other girls? I said yes. Would I be jealous?
Maybe – but it wouldn’t impact on him. He talked about his friend who had the abortion – she’s ready to take him on but his feelings for her are “clinical”.
(Uh oh. She’s in trouble. He could be lying to me about Who’s the Daddy or lying to himself, most like.) She’s 2 yrs older than him.
Then there’s a girl he met on the train – they’re just friends so far so he doesn’t know her well – but he’s curious. Then there’s the English girl – he definitely wants to bring her over but neither of them can afford it so far. He seems to have a sex/romance dichotomy going so
I’m not jealous exactly – it would be like being jealous of someone’s fantasies. However, it doesn’t make me respect him more. And he instinctively knows that – he can’t be the daring demon lover or swaggering ski coach
with me when I know too much about him. Fortunately, I suggested we bring the mattress up to the deck – we had a big, hilarious struggle through the house but it was worth it. Wonderful making love in the fresh night.
Gave him the full treatment making him yelp like a coyote.
Cold in the AM like Maine – hard to get out of bed but he was worried someone would see us so we had to push mattress through
sliding doors to dining room floor at 6 AM. Layers of secret lives! He is SO DIFFERENT from the way he seems but aren’t we all! Drove to the Idyllwild Mkt for breakfast – got lost as least six times but who cares it’s a glorious day – bought peaches, blueberries and mocha java beans.
Then we went swimming – stopping after at the mailbox. Rejection of Secaire from HBJ! What a blow and in front of Devon of all people!
Worst of all was editor’s comment – I had fallen between 2 stools – “straight” and “gothic.” Ugh. Lowers my opinion of myself in my own eyes.
Fortunately, I didn’t cry.
Devon did his best to comfort me. He compares it to
skiing which is 4,000 failures to one success. Said it’s ridiculous to consider myself a failure. I thanked him said he really cheered me up –
he said it made him look forward to ministry!!! (He can’t wait to get his hands on some “troubled young women”.) He’s going to a 3 day
retreat at Peterborough. Period coming on. It doesn’t faze Devon. Reading Harold Nicolson’s diaries which are quite a treat. I was afraid he would
be all Churchillian.
2;30 PM Mon 22 Aug 77
Can’t write, so ready to return to Maine. So desperate I
watched TV (Rhoda: Apotheosis of the Career Girl). Feeling crushed about Secaire and Demon isnot far behind. When your mind is divided it’s hard to go on. I always feel genre works actually have the potential for highest dramatic quality – mystery, discovery, transformation, revelation – telling the complete truth about everything but I just don’t know how to convey that. Also, I’m kind of worried that Devon will see my departure as “because” we punctured the fantasy with honesty ; ie I’m “punishing” him –
(that’s what Ryder would think, plus he would howl “I deserve it” then behave even worse) and of course it sort of is true . “New data” does affect everything. But I miss the dogs & worry about them. Dad has yet to figure out their gender (calls them both “boy”).
Went clothes shopping got GOREGOUS skinny jeans!
Look so good. Called Devon but had to leave an awkward message with Random Guy (ugh I hate that.) Thank God for diaries! Best therapy
possible. So much cheaper than a shrink. Diagnosis? Sheer greed. I always want everything.
Be careful what you want in case you get it. Devon and I are suddenly in the midst of a very satisfying love affair. He called 5:30 yesterday – wish it had been earlier because I was in a psychic tailspin.
Immediately tidied the place up, anointed my body, put on my black silk jumpsuit exploding with roses (last worn on date with R.) He came in wearing tight jeans and a linen safari jacket – we had a very silly time over wine. Christ he can look beautiful when he wants to. Out to a restaurant – I ordered a “flaming volcano” and they had it! More silliness.
D. said, “Going out with you is an experience.” He couldn’t compliment me enough on my general gorgeousness (heh heh heh.)
We saw The Deep which was just what we both wanted – titillating glossy glop. D. kept initiating PDA’s (which he never used to –
Wow has this guy grown up! He used to act like the Amherst PDA Police were everywhere! He suggested we go to bed!
No loitering on couch! Sexually he has all the time in the world –
he’s all out for my pleasure – his orgasm of no importance. He’s particularly good with my ass and I LOVE that. (He treats every sphincter like
another pair of lips – I’m in a threesome with myself!) I always felt like he was “holding back” – not any more.
Tendernesses and confidences growing. Nice to be loved!
He goes on and on about the beauty & sensuality of my body; my sexuality
“like a storm!” (Like dancing.)
Sun 12:30 PM Deck 7 Aug 77
Sitting over coffee, grits (to which Mrs. McManus has now addicted me) and Dorothy Eden. (The Sleeping Bride – very good!)
Praying like mad for writing money.
Lucky things worked out the way they did – keeps me from obsessing
over R.
Bike ride! It’s a form of prayer.
6Pm Hammering away – great scene – getting the good stuff –
– typewriter ribbon gave out! Come on! At 6 PM!! It’s like having your horse shot out from under you. I was going to spend the evening writing.
Goddamit.
Starting to worry about R coming back from the Finger Lakes – he
knows where I am – would he show up here? Aack! No! Impossible.
He can’t be alone. Wouldn’t drive that distance without a captive ear.
Reading Jane Aiken’s study of Jane Austen. Don’t feel a moment’s anxiety about D. Miss dancing terribly.
Mon 8 Aug 77
3 PM On deck loving the rising wind, reading The Scalpel
of Scotland Yard (Spilsbury). A perfect day. Trapped here for a few hours till the man shows up to fix trash masher – but at least I got my “naked exercises” out of the way. Today’s a scorcher – using air-conditioning for the first time. Cheated on my diet – ate a whole can of tuna.
Packed in water, fortunately. Body screaming for peaches and
almonds. Gutted the Pevensey library. They are running out of
books for me.
12:45 PM Tues Aug 9 – 77
Coming out of my coma to write agent a note.
After 3 months of not being “pushy” surely SOMETHING should
be happening. I decide I am suffering from a disease that should
be called “Dickensitis” marked by severe self consciousness and
complicated by “Plath syndrome” (brutal social induction flashbacks).
Freezes me in my path.
Loving Solzhenitsyn’s article on Shakespeare & Tolstoy.
But do I love Devon? Before all of this I would have said yes, very
casually but sometimes the better you get to know someone the less
you can love them. He was at pains to explain his theology – but it doesn’t seem to involve God – it’s all interpersonal relations – which I
have to say I think is just weird! He wants to be “of service” to people and he’s aware – but suspicious about – the “mysticism” athletes get into.
I hate to say this but it reminds me of my mother. Any “be wary of people who have an inner life and try your best to get rid of yours” philosophy
is a major turnoff for me. When we talk about “self-perfection” and “self-cultivation” we are talking about VERY different things.
I casually told him the more I get to know him the lessI know him – and he was very pleased! (Relieved.) He didn’t say why –
but I know he doesn’t want to be “easy”. I didn’t tell him he’s still held fast in Sleeping Beauty’s overgrown castle, in my opinion. Don’t think
I can get him out of there. I always try to plan my strategy if he tried
taking the relationship up a notch. But he can’t suggest we live together while he’s a divinity student. Think I can relax about it and just enjoy his magnificent body.
Take, eat. Old wounds between us are entirely healed.
If D is stuck in SB’s castle, where is R? He is unborn, a baby
dreaming in the womb. “When I grow up I’m going to have lots
LOTS of girlfriends but they will all be PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE
and SEXUALLY DYNAMIC but only when I say so!”
I regret most working so hard to make him “certain” of
me, to make sure he knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling.
I put my cards not only face-up on the table, I handed them to the guy!
Not many people would be mature enough to handle that. Never
discuss what I am feeling with D – haven’t mentioned R after our
preliminary intros “what have you been up to”. I’m not sure he even knows how I make money in Washington.
8:45 AM Wed 10 Aug 77
Like the alcoholics say, one day at a time! Exercises,
diet, sunbathe, bike ride, swim, etc. Doing a good job at that – horrible
job at writing – because I don’t hear from agent. Confidence completely collapsed. Sitting on the deck feeding Ms. McManus’ Caesar salad
croutons to a squirrel. He really likes them. Reading Berckmann’s A Thing That Happens To You. Finished Thalberg’s bio – ho hum.
No swimming – maybe bike ride in the rain (just a misting).
3:30 PM 11 Aug 77 – Thurs
Depressing letter from Chloe – she wants my help
with her MSS. I agree with Henry James – all I can do is My Thing
My Way. But I have to seem really approachable if I want radio
work. Conundrum. Catatonia. Devon called. Do I want to get laid?
I think so! Reading about grave robbers produces a poem;
RESURRECTIONIST
Unearth me, lover
I’m a jewel now
Melted
In that crevice you once loved so
Well; it’s an ingot now,
a socket
For our mingled liquid
Essence
Suck it up with
Dust-lathered lips
Strip
The flesh as you once did
The clothes; I’m burning
Cinder-hot –
Let me astound you with
My time-perfected skill
Sat. 13 Aug 77
7 good pages writing, then bad letter from Ryder asking is our “living together” a ”condition” of “my return”? Where the hell did he get that? He just wants something to react against. He can’t imagine a relationship that isn’t controlled by implied threats. He believes in
working and suffering so much then – let him work and suffer. What would annoy him most? If I don’t respond! Ha ha! Let the panic begin!
Need to become more private – simply to protect myself. For all I know he’s relishing the torture he goes through.
Devon and I had a glorious date – splendid dinner (steak!)
then made love all over the floor. He played with my body until he got it roaring and pulsating like an express train. The way he handled me,
gripped me, held me, crushed me even – made me ask about his other girlfriends. He said no, he never gets as much “touch” as he wants. I said,
“Except with me”. He said, “Except with you.” Over dinner he said
matter-of-factly that we are so alike loving me has always felt “narcissistic” to him. I bet! Happy, happy, happy… Picked up The Edwardians –
I can’t get into it. Keep seeing Devon’s body plying me, bending me…I know somewhere out there lies perfect happiness, waiting to astonish me.
Devon and I went for a long walk today, had a great
talk. He told me all about his passionate relationship with
English girl – asking “Do you really want to know?” I did – I managed to
be very hands off. Said he’d written her “lyrical love-letters” and
she is saving money to come to US at Christmas.
Bit of a downer to find other people have split
minds like me. I told him a little about Ryder and even more about my husband. I had to hope he wouldn’t see it “retaliation” for what he’d told me. (R would have.) Fantasies can be ugly if they prevent you from experiencing reality.
We hugged – he left – I know he thinks I’m too
“intense”. I was stupid enough to read him my peach poem. On
the other hand, if a guy can’t handle my poetry where am I? R only likes poems he knows are about him.
Wrote a whiny letter to Avril (who usually can handle
whiny letters). Good today – bike, swimming, plus my walk with D. Long letter to Mom and Dad.
Reading Stella Gibbons’ Cold Comfort Farm –
can’t stay grumpy – laughing too hard. Settling into my spaceship –
my own body – first day of the rest of my life. Listening to wonderfully crazy modern opera on the radio.
Sun 24 July 77
4PM
Wrote 4 pages of A Demon Roused. Horribly
dissatisfied. Patricia Highsmith on the suspense novel no damn
help at all. Everything I’ve ever written pure dunder written by a
dunderhead. Restrained myself from calling Ryder to yell at him.
Face facts. Left DC June 4. This coming
month has to be gotten through. Feel I my “breakdown” I suffered last spring was a crisis of identity. Attacked by the writing thing
(no money, no approval, no relationships) attacked by the relationship thing (R too critical, wanting to “change” me.) Starving myself. Long mad midnight walks rampaging thru Chevy Chase with dogs. The ENDLESS Devon situation only explicable when seen in this light.
(He’s TOO good looking – too much fantasy.)
Now about my book. New beginning ALL wrong and
I couldn’t figure out why. The characters seem alive.
First Person Difficult. My husband always said
omniscient narrator no longer possible, making
me want to do it. However, I have to admit you
need to be somebody – an extra character and that’s a
bigger pain in the neck.
2) Scene Problematic. I’ve GOT to get these people out of England.
It’s artificial. How about if I don’t say where it is? Will the specificity cops come after me?
3) Format (Suspense novel) rough because I have to be
the one who knows what’s going on and I want to write my first draft in a narcoleptic state. Means I have to be happy making a huge ness with a million
false starts and then write the thing ALL OVER when I know what’s going on.
But I feel time running out on me. Goddam it.
I should be happy to explore. Why all this pressure? Two novels unaccepted, why write a fourth? Am I deliberately trying to drive myself to the
brink of insanity? Also I HATE Sunday because the pool is packed, no stores are open, and there’s no mail.
Devon and his roommates Blair & Brian drop by and I
struggle to appear sane. Hard for me.
6PM
Called R. to yell at him. He wasn’t there – thank GOD.
Maybe I just want to punish him. He certainly deserves it.
1:30 PM Mon 25 July 77
Dark night of the soul finally over. Very athletic today –
feel deliciously tired. Decide I should go back to Washington no
matter what. My choices are my choices. My happiness can’t be dependent on how people treat me. I plan to use my time to become powerful – to be the person I’m supposed to be. In the drugstore line I was reading up on the showbiz personalities – nobody interesting before 30 and I have a few years yet.
Forget about weight – just follow & learn to love
“virtuous routine”. (I’m a size seven – that’s pretty good.) Today it
POURED rain – night baseball Devon wanted to attend out of the
question. He suggested we switch to a movie when he called this am.
Still feel stilted with him unfortunately.
Assault on library. Planning to ransack the place.
Leafed through Helen Hayes (poor woman); enjoying Thurber’s
My World and Welcome To It .
Tues. 26 July 77 9:40 AM
Sitting on stonewall in full sunlight in my black bikini
waiting for pool to open. Swim and sunbathe till ll:30 when mail comes.
After 7 pm I can return – that way I miss the crowds.
Exercise, coffee, 3 glasses water. The Regime.
I’m down to $4. Embarrassing to be taken out last night
by Devon & his roommates. (We saw Star Wars. Childish, but they were into it.) Sent letter to Mom & D asking for stock certificates. They
won’t like it.
Dinner should have been nice but barbecue very messy.
Wore my tightest jeans and my pink French “Trés chic” t-shirt. Devon surprised me by talking on and on about how beautiful I am. Started to get stoked – in fact I was horny as hell. I would have taken the three seminary students on if I could have avoided the interpersonal madness that would result. They all have beautifully athletic bodies. But I’m starting to get a feeling that if I just sit in my deer blind a bit longer Devon will come to me.
Every now and then I get a bad “Ryder – flashback”, like some synaptic slipup. What will I think of this years from now? Mirror images ache, then fade.
Cold Comfort Farmexactly 100 pages too long (but I
think most books are). Take a long hot Jean Nate bubble bath and read The Thornbirds.
2:30 PM Wed July 27 – 77
Masturbation is the better part of valor. Don’t make
decisions ruled by sex. Bike ride combined with cold shower doesn’t work.
Must husband my wattage (joke). Too bad sex is
such a fast way to get to know someone.
First draft of Demon so far bony and spare. Neatly
boxed “components” = “write your own novel”. Trying to exterminate “dead” patches. Wish I had done this with The Mass at St. Secaire –
but in those days I was in the “throw in everything you think of and
take it out later” school. I like constructing this awkward armature better. Lean and mean superior to flagellate and winnow.
Will I ever let Ryder see my new body, my new confidence?
He will hang on for dear life and I don’t want that. I want to go back to dancing but Ryder prefers I have neither security NOR money.) Think I’ll look for a sublet – easier to impress a private owner than a credit union.
I prefer living alone. Painstaking cultivation of intense privacy in the midst of a crowd has always been my forte.
Mom and Dad called – acting all worried. Apologizing
for giving Ryder my number. I put on a good show of being completely ”over” him but I can see they don’t want me moving back to Washington and prefer Mrs. Duvall’s ski chalet option. (My cynical side tells me it’s just cheaper.) I act like I have connections to the literary life in DC and they don’t know any better.
Thornbirds is teaching me the great unpleasantness of
what publishers define as “a good read”. Contrary to my previous belief unfortunately the Victorian period has not ended. Forced to skip the war, potted history and scenery descriptions just to keep going.
7:30 PMFinished Thornbirds. Neither Dane’s death nor Justine’s love affair rang true for me. Uh oh. Danger signs. My taste thoroughly out of kilter with the market.
Couldn’t swim – 3,000 spectators at some sort of race
in the pool. So went to library – checked out twelve books – bio, history murder mysteries. Alec Waugh, Somerset Maugham, Vyvyan Holland, –
Hugh Walpole. Evelyn Waugh, of course. At this very moment R is
doing his very last show of 7:30 Live. Will they have a party or wake?
Probably go out drinking at the Shalimar, try to pick up dancers he can hector and assault. Time for me to go walking and see how the other (99%) live.
HOT PROWL
Don’t wake up.
I surveil by night
Your chiseled torso
Slacken with exhaustion.
Touching things that once
You touched,
Listing to your apnea –
I turn away before you turn.
Making peace with all my choices.
It’s worth everything;
Winning in divorce a
Hard-won superpower:
Invisibility
2:45 PM Thurs 28 July 77
Loving myself today. I am very tan. Hair strawberry
blond and my stretchmarks look like silk moiré. Any sense of inadequacy must be pounced upon and shored up – work like a beaver at his dam.
No worries, few fears. Daddy sent $ which I deposit in my acct. Since I can’t cash a check anywhere I eat what’s here; pickled beets and plain grits. Gallons of water to even it all out. Shake the old body out after 26 years.
Decide two people create love – I refuse to do it alone.
Reading Ford Madox Ford and grooving on his Violet versus Elsie
problems. Schadenfreude. Years later poor Elsie says, “I should have ignored everybody and divorced him.” Alas, Ford is a self-centered fool.
Not a simpatico character. However the period is a favorite with me. Mail hideously dull. Nothing from Harcourt. Will my “Westerns” editor have thenerve to turn down an author they’ve got 105,000 copies of? Yes. They’re all a bunch of weenies, frankly. Bike ride.
8:45 PM Finished article for the McManus mag about
Shadowe – “Island in Common” – 750 words – sent it off with letter.
Mission accomplished. Thinking of substituting a night ride for my walk.
Triggers fewer yearnings.
Ford’s moved to the US and I’m at the end of my tether with him. Tried
reading Jane Novak’s Razor Edge of Balance on V. Woolf – but she’s no threat –
– Lingo Academico virtually impenetrable.
Loved reading Fowles on the Fr Lt’s Woman – even though he has a “tin ear” about the Victorians – their “failure” to depict “a man and woman in bed together” ! (How about My Secret Life!!!) He’s the real thing all right even though he launched 1st draft without any research. (It shows.)
I’m going to stop freaking out about how little I know London.
Full of joy & life & strength & immortality & pep. Now thinking fondly of DC. Resist the impulse to call myself a turkey for even MENTIONING living together to R. (I said in my phone message I had to have a house for dogs.)
I can see him crying over his beer at the strip club. Insisting his wussdom is independence. I feel and look mighty thin – but refuse the temptation to weigh
myself. Size seven is good enough. Took my walk looking indulgently at couples with children thinking, “This too is within my reach.”
Mail full of dull rejections NO interest or acceptances. But the UNITY MITFORD I’d ordered came which I’m reading now. Must write about sisters someday. It’s a trip.
11:12 AM Sat 30 Jul 77
Going out tonight with Devon to see Annie Hall, that laff riot he hasn’t seen. This is one of the things I love about life – it’s so unpredictable! Give these guys space to stew they will eventually DO something. We had a nice phone conversation. I can tell he has “traumatized” himself by thinking he “lured” me fruitlessly here. I tell him hardly, I’m writing 8 p. a day (of course it will all have to be thrown out) getting a tan and reading piles of books. (All true.) Too cold & overcast today for pool though and now its raining.
Starting to get a feeling D and I will end up in bed.
It’s inevitable. How I crave that tight young flesh…Bet you $5. Will
wear my faded cerise linen jumpsuit, high heels and Nefertiti necklace.
Stoking!
4:15 PM Sun 31 July 77 Deck
Devon found Annie Hall so painful it took awhile for him to speak. I was surprised but patient. I couldn’t have dreamed up a movie more likely to focus all our reservations. The scene where Annie tells Alvy she misses him made me think of poor Ryder – the separate fragile uniqueness of each human soul – and I could tell Devon was “feeling” his memories too.
We sneaked a pizza (a whole pizza) into the theatre
so we could come right back here for wine and coffee and more wine –
took three hours to get to the point of making love.
In a fairly daring move D opened the buttons of my jumpsuit and stroked my stomach pulling down first one shoulder and then another to play with my breasts. Lovely feeling our bodies surge together. He’s good with his hands and has the most sensitive nipples of any man I’ve been with. At last I suggested we go to bed – the couch was really too uncomfortable. D went down on me – his body is the most gorgeous since the history of time – mountains, valleys, crevasses
– it’s like rock climbing making love to this man. He insisted on coming outside me which startled me somewhat, but after asking about my “protection” (IUD) fortunately abandoned this technique the second time.
He looks at me in a funny way like he wants to say
something but he doesn’t say it. I tried to tell him I’ve learned so much from our 5 year friendship – he seemed unable to take it in. He obviously fears the future and his memory is so bad – after the terrors of his childhood he thinks the whole past is all bad news. It’s like he’s afraid to remember ANYTHING. That would be the worst thing for a writer.
You dare not fear the past. Rhythms can’t evolve from longing alone.
We woke up, grapenuts & coffee, went swimming, sat on deck, watched tennis on TV. Every time I changed clothes he said “the sight of you naked turns me on” and we made love again.
Tomorrow is the first of August – whole new beginning.
Try to see myself at 33, with a lawn and a bra and a trash compactor.
Freedom is key. No mail. Reading Geo Woodcock’s critical study of Orwell.
6:45 PM Dark as night and pouring rain. Obsessing
about D’s body – can’t get it out of my mind and our 22 hours together.
Welcome obsessions; R’s slate cleared. Did I use him? Is he “Brand X?”
Thinking of all the things I wish I’d said to Devon. He’s so intellectual yet so impermeable. Strange delicate kisses – as impossible to get inside his mouth as his mind. Loud thunder, lightning.
Today I should start my new novel – always the worst
part. Lauren called to APOLOGIZE for our dinner. I said nothing
to apologize for I had a wonderful time. She said she had an
“off” night and they are upping my print run from 100,000 to
110,000.. So I guess I’m “on” again in case I write another Eng
gothic historical paperback they like (don’t hold your breath).
Threw aside Berckman’s Crown Estate suddenly can’t stand
other people’s writing.
Very disllusioning dinner with Chuck Kornowitz. My
piece de resistance crab manicotti in Newburg sauce turned out
exquisitely but he only cared about the booze. When I mentioned The Great American novel he said it’s been written and offered to send it to me. He edited it! He only laughed at one thing I said –
he called Athenaeum a “very, very small publishing house” and I
said, “More of a hut, really”. He obviously thought I was going to
have sex with him so that he would read my book. I turned him
down but offered to make up a bed for him on sofa (he really seemed incapacitated by drink but he blamed it on jetlag.) He insisted on leaving, looking very cranky. He did wonder aloud who the hell I think I am? What’s a little sex between “friends” (or supplicants & donors?)
Letter from Devon (I needed it) cheered me up extraordinarily.
Just in the nick of time. I’m a loner, he’s a loner too – do two loners
make a party? Having a hard time feeling beautiful when I am not
dancing and 50 situps a day and one filthy bike ride are no substitute.
But this seminarian writes a mean letter. Loved my novel. Looks
forward to servicing – er surveying Boston in my company. Four
hours on novel produces 8 bad pages. It’s a start.
Ms. MacManus foisting her probate lawyer nephew
Henry on me. He came over to invite me to the beach
(and help me walk the dogs.) He’s a pale,
pale Ryder (he’d have to be Peter Frampton to arouse me at
this stage) and I feared he’d get sunstroke but I said yes. Saw
Jabberwocky – very Monty Python.
Wrote a long wailing, complaining letter to Avril. Try to
read Women & Madness but it’s too poorly written and repels
every attempt. Norah Lofts White Hell of Pity – very depressing.
But you’re pretty much asking for it if you pick up a book with that title.
11:00 AM Sun 3 July 77
Had to walk Genevieve’s dogs all the way to Columbus
& Ninth to find NY Times. Henry cancelled – I didn’t know why till
Ms MacManus told me he found out I wasn’t Jewish! Now she tells
me! (She’s not Jewish either.) Reading First Person Singular –
actually some helpful dating advice. Is it too crass to count on
having sex with Devon July 20? (That’s as long a wait as I think
I can stand.)
12:45 PM Mon 4 July 77
Almost strangled the dogs today. Sam rolled in horseshit
in the park. Had to wash them both. Then they bothered me so much
during my exercises I had to lock them up. They howled. Penance all around. Ms. McManus invited me to see New York, New York
. We enjoyed Unsung Cole last night – and she is going to Martha’s Vineyard so won’t be around to make me her new chew toy.
11:25 PM Wish I could read the future. New York,
New York none too reassuring about male/female relationships.
Reading Leonard Woolf’s depressing Downhill All the Way.
His mind so different from Virginia’s you could call it “antithetical”.
Tomorrow’s excitement – double feature of Shame and The
Passion of Anna.
12:25 AM 9 July 77
Ryder’s divorce final. His relationship with me? Still in
“separation” phase. Trying to hate him but it’s not working. Pity
the petty man who revels in bondage. Feeling sorry for all his
future lovers is the best I can do. He would respect me more if I
was less sexually excitable, and that’s the ugly truth. Totally
resigned that Harcourt will reject Secaire. Went to Patti Smith
concert with Brett’s brother. Kind of fun the way she barks out
her poetry; but little too butch for me. He is an incipient pedophile
remarking on every thirteen-year old he saw (or possibly he was
just trying to annoy me.)
11:45 PM Sun 10 July 77
Loved Rhoda Lerman’s The Girl That He Marries
– never were reviews so misleading!
July 14, 1977
Power out in the whole city! Living by candles. No
elevator doesn’t affect us readers. Doorman up and down the
stairs with flashlights looking for old people. Dogs poop on
balcony. I seize any excuse not to write.
9 PM Fri 22 July 1977 – Mrs. McManus’ condo
Pevensey Old Farms
New deal: all I have to do for luxe pad is write an
article for Mrs. McManus’ real estate mag. I think rich people
are masters of bait and switch – I was supposed to be doing HER a favor – but of course I say yes. Contemplate novel about homicidal house-sitter called Other
People’s Houses but I see from Books In Print it’s been taken.
Lying here making new breakthroughs in the art of
writing sideways; disinfecting my ear from swimming. Wanted
to write about Monica Dickens’ Man Overboard or N Ephron’s
Crazy Salador at the very least make a New Plan for My Novel
but find I can’t. Was very “good” today – swam, bicycled, some
writing. Allowed to eat anything here luckily her food is not too
outrageous – hamburger and zucchini salad. Marinated artichoke
hearts.
Refuse to shred my nerves further by hating myself.
My body’s not perfect but I do feel on the home stretch to self-control.
Give me six weeks and I’ll be flying. Emotionally, I’m a mess.
Devon brought up marriage and I am smotheringly certain that I
can’t live up to either of our expectations as a parson’s wife.
Might be fun to try – but that’s not the point. I fear the idiot side of me that just keeps coming out. Can’t seem self-assured, playfully
grave instead sexually voracious and maniacally ridiculous.
Anyway Intuition told me he would call tonight between
8-10.
He called at 8:30. I cracked too many jokes – conversation
painfully bizarre. He seemed calm and unfreaked. He got a new
job that gives him more “room” (he’s a waiter- he’s sick of teaching
people) asked when he could “show up” and suggested tomorrow.
Moving a lot faster than I expected from my memories of
Shy Boy. Do I want to have my fantasies played fast and loose with in this way? (Am I over Ryder?) Do I want to get over him? Or are mismatches of Time & Desire my Fate?
I am certainly NOT turning down D’s offer to see what
there can be for us. Companion? Lover? Second self? Brother?
Alas he is too blindingly handsome for me to be rational.
If he comes tomorrow there won’t be time for more than
necking (has to get to new job by 4.)
Forget “July 20”, entered on my calendar as S Day.
I WILL NOT MAKE LOVE TO A SCHEDULE. We have to have
a night alone to make things happen. I can be patient – can he?
Well, I can be honest. Best anyone can do.
10:45 PM Back from a walk, reliving my years as teenage
prowler. And peeper. These walks are very informational as I spy
couples hanging plants & merrimekkos, having fights and pouring wine.
Macramé is de rigueur. Try to imagine Devon & me in similar situations.
Maybe he won’t be a parson forever.
Celebrate my freedom from R. Nice to know I can go to parties without fearing R’s paranoia & restrictions mixed up in his exhibitionism & flamboyance. Freeing me maybe to be those things. Fantasize
pleasurably about long drives with D – my hand on his thigh – separate but equal thoughts unfolding with the journey. My emotions a difficult horse to ride.
11:50 PM
Interrupted by phone call from R.
Offered to send me money. What is wrong with him?
He said, “You were right the way you always are. When are you
coming back to me?” Loves me, misses me, wants me back. He’s
been sick – Emmys a complete bust – his TV show cancelled – 2
directors actually fired (25 people in total.) Today’s the first day he’s
been back to work, amazed not to get a pink slip. He’s taking a two
week unpaid leave to go to the Finger Lakes and find his soul. If
they fire him so what. He refuses to take out of town job.
He really worked me over – gave me a bird’s eye
view of what life with him would be like. For example, said, “his
place is my place.” If he means “move in” he knows I’ll say no
because his skyscraper doesn’t take dogs. He asked, “When
do you come down to get your furniture?” I don’t like him having
all this information. Thank God for D. Six weeks to decide
whether I even want to return to Washington. I write a poem for Devon.
& sour cream – everything ready but wine. Too lazy to drive
to the Tick Tock. Day of ecstasy sorting books in new study.
Sections are: crime writing, Victorians, Great Novels, the Occult,
Women Writers, Cinema, Politics, Science, Children, History &
Murder Mysteries. (Move those downstairs.) Hating Orlando.
Why did Bowen write Afterword if she didn’t like the book?
Mon 28 Feb 77 – Broadcast Agency
Bad sex. Sore. Feel like I’ve been run over. Something’s
up with him. Mauled me again in the middle of the night. Guilt?
Surprise visit from landlord – heard about “violations” from
Montgomery County. Ha ha. Obviously only two people living here –
(nothing visible of Mason’s.) Landlord calmed. Says he wants to
sell the place. Would we allow to be shown? I said sure. Everybody happy. Sorry to lose such a beautiful house but it is too expensive for one person anyway.
Thurs. 3 Mar 77
Long talk with Avril about Mason. He is a racist.
She says how is it possible to feel superior to and inferior to someone at the same time? Human condition, I say. Spring wind makes me long to shed my clothes! Poor Ryder! It’ll be halter tops and hot pants the minute temp hits 65. Finally got a V. Woolf poem –
VIRGINIA WOOLF:
The Membraned Sieve
O bliss to be red admiral afeast
Upon a rotten apple in the grass; she dreamed that guiltily
Woke to Leonard bringing milk
Nessa dancing bear-like on the lawn, woke
To pain; cylindrical as seasons
Burning white and burning blue like friends.
The words fell fast, the blood fell faster;
Split the membraned sieve.
She raced the whitecaps out to sea
Parting the waves with her mother’s hand.
Keith and I still talk but he has made no moves. Relief.
Mon 7 Mar 77
Ryder says he talks so much about me associate director
Kerry’s asked to meet me. (He told Kerry he doesn’t deserve
me. It’s the truth!) I said he can’t come to our party at
The Plum – we have no room.
Sex too rough. Experimenting or letting his anger
out? Maybe I’ve stopped lubricating – my body’s ready
to quit even if I’m not. Wants me to wake up and smell
the coffee. Lunch w/Maeve at Carmac’s, me splendid in
I gave her phone bill – also letter from collection agency
about plane bill she said boyfriend paid for. He’s obviously
running a scam on her. She says she found a Bethesda
efficiency $180/month. Had to rush to get back to work –
then saw List of Adrian Messenger with A. Made up writing
schedule for Secaire. But the minute I start I get idea for
another work – story about father/ daughter/ stepmother war–
A Demon Roused. Who’s the demon? Reading The Ring,
the Book & The Poet.
11 Mar 77
Sent home 3:30 because B’Nai B’rith under siege
by terrorists (3 blocks away). Police will tell us when to
come back. Real estate agent leads inspector thru house.
Bad letter from my agent telling me not to try to sell “old” stuff,
write in “new” vein – but she means “like Devlyn”. No more
historicals for me!!!! Got to get out of this stalemated “love”
relationship – when I tax R with things he’s said, he
claims he “doesn’t remember” so we never advance
and I feel diminished. Had to tell him sex is over – I can
see he doesn’t believe me. Must ask for his key back,
that should do it. Dragged Avril protesting to Freaky Friday –
it was worth it. Barbara Harris Chaplinesque. Told Broadcast
I will work only one full day per week – must go back to dancing.
Read Ellen Glasgow’s The Woman Within. Trying to
rewrite Secaire in third person. Unsuccessful. Dreaming
about houses with deep, cool porches but tax people
giving me only $112. Avril crying over Mason’s “hideous brutality”
but she won’t break up with him. Ugh. (Feel my relationship mirrored.)
13 Mar 77
Made love with R for what I hope was last time
(he brought lubricant.) His body no longer a key to mine.
Think I’m started on Secaire Final Draft. God I hope so.
R will sulk for a while, then we’ll “talk”. Prayed for the first
time, to the “life source”. Pray away panic and disorder,
pray for clarity, purity, calm. Beautiful long walk. Heat like July.
Storm burst 4:30. Coffee, orange slices, do my nails. Re-
read Great Gatsby, pitying Fitzgerald the while. Someone
should write this novel from Daisy’s point of view. Exciting
way to get back into Courtney – but I don’t want to put it in the ‘20’s.
Told R I’m dating so had to invite Keith to All Night Strut –
he was pleased. Says he’s not hung up on men paying for everything.
17 Mar 77
Thank God for dancing. a fe moments of complete bliss each evening.
Everyone fussing about Scenes from a Marriage. It is excellent.
Reading good bio Dorothy Thompson. Novel going swimmingly –
suddenly feel fearless. Sex scene perfect. Why elaborate?
Why elucidate? Need to be out of this house June 1 – can do,
but should I return to dancing or take summer off? Undecided.
Mon. 21 Mar 77
Wish I hadn’t called Ryder but I did. He was very injured
by my sex comments. I said I was very injured by the sex. (He says he fears me.) Goddamit feel like turning in my phone if this is how
I am going to behave. Watched Upstairs Downstairs, Monty Python.
Felt better. All Night Strut amusing – Keith invited me to Voyage of the Damned. (He pronounces it Dam – NED. In a class by himself after all?)
Unfortunately not feeling the chemistry. Trying to take what pleasure I can in high heels and see through blouses. Could we just date? Secaire solid, beautiful, disturbing. Avril says its very exciting. Found a shack in Virginia for $200/month. But maybe I have to flee this state to eradicate R from my soul.
Bad date. I talked too much. Goddamit dating’s awful. Like those endless “teas” we suffered through in Girl Scouts. Sex is less work (not that I indulged. He has a repellently gooey corpus.) He took me to Alfio’s for dinner! Scene of R’s & my first date! Couldn’t resist telling him I used to dance at Shalimar next door. Keith invited me to his house in Potomac. I said nix. Dumped on doorstep with closed mouth kiss.
Shudders of relief. Walked in on Mason in a rage over my “betrayal” of Ryder!! I said he’s dating other people. Mason said but he loves you!
I didn’t say his love is a septic condition. (Because Mason’s love is also a septic condition. Poor Avril.) Happily to bed with Becker’s Escape from Evil.
2 April 77
Crisis at work sending my first cablegram to France – Keith showed up looking extremely handsome. Terrible suspicions novel is bad.
Off to splendiferous bash – literary party. Met Chuck Kornowitz,
editor from Athenaeum. Acted interested in my work – where can we have dinner? Took him to the Serbian Crown. He is NOT interested in my work he is interested in me. Damn. Told me the most erotic encounter he has ever had was with a stranger in an elevator! Feels sex with complete strangers has not yet been fully explored!!! Not by me that’s for sure.
He drove me home, insisted on walking dogs with me, holding my hand! Weird but I don’t want to turn him off entirely. (He’s old and ugly – looks like a Gila monster.) Fighting the impulse to call R and yell at him. Boy am I sick. Poor Keith does not know I need him for a rabies shot. Against hair of the dog?
Fri. 8 Apr 77
Agency offers me over-time while files are reorganized. More cash. We celebrate Avril‘s new job as fake nurse at urology office. She hasto buy a nursing uniform so patients won’t know. (Doctor not willing to pay over minimum wage.) Still, it looks classy. Went to Black Tahiti where I had sweet & sour shrimp. Turns out I need to stay away from booze because called You Know Who came right over and we indulged in mad passionate sex all night long. R was delicate and gentle – brought me to the edge several times before finally pushing me off cliff. Showoff.
Talked about me like he’d read my work. (Praising it.
Thought I’d be pleased.) Then told me he’d “busy” this weekend.
Steeerike three! Tragically I need a guardian, conservator AND a
bodyguard. (Keith doesn’t have the build.)
Chloe apologized for bad writing workshop with dinner
after at Armand’s. My advice to writers – learn what kind of writer
you need to be and get on with it. Found myself getting defensive about Devlyn – if I don’t want to write “that way” again it must mean there was “something wrong” with it!!! Bad advice from Ted Hughes :
“When you find yourself using someone else’s voice, stop at once.”
Nothing ventured nothing gained under that theory. This is not making me eager to hit the “literary events” as Chloe advised. The “noise” interferes with my working mind.
Hostile questioning from Mom and Dad who don’t know
why I don’t move closer to Devon!!! They say “playing the field” is
cheapening my brand. Reading Mrs. Starr Lives Alone.
Fri. 16 April 1976 – 2 PM – Train to Philly – a zombified redhead in suede coat, oversized purse & glasses. Lacking mirrors, we lose our faces. Got to get my emotional house in order but I can’t think how. I used to have a roadmap and none of this was on it. What am I? An idiot? No. Just an addict of spiritually orgasmic livnig. Still, all is grist for the art mill.
Reading The Fortunate Miss East, a charming, charming little novel. Aunt Fred picking me up – I’m scheduled to read my poetry at Baldwin School.
Zevin Towers – Wash DC 9:30 AM Wed 21 Apr 76
Baby sis Avril and I are totally broke. We are eating
our way thru Mom & Dad’s supplies. The grapenuts went first then the soup. Now we are on sauerkraut and spinach. Playing Fleetwood Mac & Jimmy Spheeris while sitting on the balcony looking over Rock Creek Park. You don’t see one building; Washington DC masquerades as a virgin world. I need a job by next Mon. Something tells me I can’t finish my novel and sell it in time. I refuse to be a cubicle drudge again so what is there? Nude modeling sounds dangerous. Topless dancing?
Avril admits she sits on a park bench instead of going to class as she told Mom! Uh oh. She says she just can’t “make herself” do things. What a relief to have someone worse off than me.
How I wish I could fall in love with Marc Kramer. He’s longing to buy jewelry for someone! I could sell that rather than the contents of this old folks’ apartment. But he’s too sane if anything andwears funny old man lace-up shoes.
Plus he’s covered in a thick mat of dark fur. And there’s his endless talk about shorts,hedges, futures. PARALYZINGLY DULL. Raining outside.
Isn’t life rotten?
10:50 AM Sun 2 May 76
Answered an ad for “go-go girl”. You wear fringed
bikinis and go-go boots and dance for the troops! No more than 2 gigs a day (gotta drive there) and each one only lasts an hour so $60 seems very generous.
She asked for my “experience” – I said I used to be a Maxim’s dancer! (I didn’t say it was for the nuns’ THEATRE SCHOOL in Minnesota!)
DeeDee is giving me my schedule tomorrow.
Tips are welcome because I don’t get paid till the 15th. Have to clean this apt and I don’t want to at all. Dad says apt lease up in two months so I’ll have to find somewhere else to live (Mom refuses to live here because 16th floor.) Dad says men are put off by us because Avril and I are too “masculine” by which he means determined, decisive and pleasure seeking. (A. very disappointed because she’s had two dates with Paul and no sex yet.) Reading Spink’s Hans Christian Andersen and his World – what a painful ugly duckling story!
Tues. 4 May 76 9:45 pm
Totally exhausted. Had to dance 2 hrs at Andrews
AFB because my partner didn’t show up (but it’s double the money.) Jefferson Starship’s Miracles my favorite song to dance to. Soldiers always want to play I’m A Man and that’s no fun. Of course I have seen Spencer Davis’ dark side up close while I was trailing around dragging an echo-plex after rockstar husband Bruce. Would be reading The Place at Whitton by Thos Keneally if I could keep my eyes open.
11:20 AM Sat 8 May 76
No word from Beautiful Faraway Perfect Man
Devon about whether he will ever visit, but speaking of attractive young men I had a “conversion experience” at the Ft. Myers’ officers club yesterday. I was registering at the front desk when this young man with dark curly hair and the face of an angel asked me who I was and what I was up to. I was wearing my go-go outfit plus military-style jacket so I did stand out. He wore a sweatband around his head and was all set for running but his plans changed in a flash. He would rather watch me dance instead.
His name is Frank and something Italian. Took me down to the dark Hideaway Club and watched me the whole time – playing and replaying the Pointer Sisters’ Chick on the Side. I gave him my number and he gave me a $20 tip. Does he represent a break from lonely masturbation? At this stage of my relationship with Devon I can hardly be unfaithful. We shall see.
Marc Kramer called offering to fly me to the island and back for Memorial Day weekend. I have $266 in the bank. Should I take him up on it? Just doesn’t feel right. Wouldn’t be able to get rid of him when I wanted to. I hate feeling “beholden.” Reading Norah Lofts’ Hauntings to help me with my ghost stories.
2:15 PM – Sun 9 May 76
Lying in bed surrounded by Sun papers. Have decided
to get tix for me and Avril to Royal Danish Ballet’s Triumph of Death,
Royal Ballet’s Romeo and Juliet and All’s Well That Ends Well at the Folger Shakespeare Library. So glorious having money.
Tues. 2:30 pm 18 May 76
Guy came forward at the Army Navy Yard, offered
me his card and said I could make a whole lot more money dancing at his club. I have to admit this rushing around in a car is getting old – our Gremlin AKA the “el Diablo” is acting up. ThinkI will go to his club, talk to the other dancers and see what the scoop is. It is “topless”, but so what if you aren’t supposed to (or expected to) “fraternize’ with the audience. There is a stage.
Went to look at a townhouse off Dupont Circle – 2 bedroom, $435 a month but no place for dogs. Can’t live without my dogs forever.
Jeannie and I perform at a private party in Annandale. I am nervous but she is completely cool and they are content to look. Avril has a new man – Jack.
Wed 26 May 1976 – The Parkway East
Waiting my turn to go on. Thought I was going to have
dance alone but thank God Darby finally showed up – fucked up, but she can dance. (Her boyfriend brought her.) Phoned Devon – boy that was stupid – to see if he wanted to go to the island for Mem Day Weekend. He is playing in a tennis tournament and not “available”. Every time I reach out to him I feel like a sap. Never know whether his mysterious “tides” are “in” or “out”. He did his best to sound warm and affectionate but he is obviously very stressed – he was actually panting! Now he’ll have to meditate for a week. Must let this man go.
When I wail about him, Avril makes me laugh by saying, “He’s GAY! He just won’t admit it!” But I have to say in the sack he didn’t seem gay to me. Genevieve invites us to NYC for Mem Day weekend. She has filed for divorce and fallen in love with someone else. Ex Kent doesn’t know but she warns us he is calling everyone in the family begging us to intervene.
2 PM – 9 June 76
Sun night I invited Frank and his roommate to dinner.
Horrible. They were 45 mins late and my blintzes were ruined. Avril & roommate took against each other immediately. They brought Thai sticks, we refused to smoke. On an up note I took a cab to the Club Shalimar (Gremlin in shop) and the taxi driver was so excited about having a poet in his car he didn’t charge me. Said he had never met a poet before. (Gave him a poem on the spot.) Shalimar seems possible – other dancers like it but constant turnover; no one has been there long. Bouncer very nice, and I can take a bus there so A. can have car. Tempted to risk it.
11:05 PM – waiting for Jeannie in the empty Bethesda Naval Officers Club. She is giving me a ride home. She is an interesting person – has done a lot of nude modeling – showed me her portfolio. Very Playboy. Officers keep marching through in their whites. They are very polite.
Fri. 11 June 76 8:15 PM -
Things could hardly be worse. Got my hair cut the
other day – I only wanted a trim – he absolutely butchered me. It is barely shoulder length and it looks like a cow slept in it. I hate all hairdressers, gynecologists and dentists – you’re just completely helpless in their hands. Plus I got another piercing in each ear and the left one seems infected. Now my face looks crooked. Also having my period so I am swollen up like I’m pregnant. Avril has a college friend (male) coming for the weekend and she is beating herself up – “Why did I say yes?” She would call and cancel if only he had a phone.
On the plus side, tips at the Shalimar are really good and the dancing is as energetic as you feel like – which means standing there swaying is Just Fine. You can rock yourself to sleep if you want to. Of course my ego won’t allow too much relaxation.
Piece of good news – agent loves my gothic novel! Reading The Royal Victorians. Gremlin seems stabilized so Avril applied for a job as a driver with a messenger service.
Fri. 18 June 76 ll:00 Am
A’s friend a complete bozo. Fortunately he has other
places to be so we hardly see him. Huge sigh of relief and lesson learned. Let’s just hope he doesn’t steal the silver. DeeDee and I come to a Sad Parting of the Ways – her money too small, gas costs, etc.
A and I got a wonderful 3 bedroom in Chevy Chase on a charming little side street but the landlord very snooty about only 2 tenants. We said OK, OK. Big yard. I can have my dogs! Moving in July 5. Struggling with Christina Stead’s Puzzleheaded Girl. She is overrated. Maybe I can’t read fiction any more.
Fri 25 June 76 – Club Shalimar
Eating free scrambled eggs the cook gave me:
“Somebody’s got to eat them” while waiting to go on. A lot of interesting men come into this place. None perfect obviously – and unfortunately I need more than perfection. I need mysticism, competence and money-earning capabilities. Shalimar owner seems to be something of a gangster.
I got 2 standing ovations today.
The job is actually enjoyable. I am really getting into it – dancing for pleasure – for the connection with the audience. They stare spellbound like deer in the headlights. Feel like I’m living in a Simenon novel as I learn the ins and outs.
Avril loves her new job – thank God – they want her to do dispatch (no wear and tear on fragile Gremlin) and the drivers are all foreigners who don’t know the city. She’s always yelling at them to “Look out the car window and tell me what you see.”
Met the most charming little man – a TV director at a local station – speaks sign language, is a magician and a karate black belt, he’s just so full of joie de vivre. His name is Ryder and his excitement about me puts my non-relationship with Devon in a new light. Reading Meyer’s Ibsen.
1:15 AM – Sat 3 July 76
We’re supposed to “wait” in the dressing room
but they don’t seem to care if you don’t so I spend all my time talking to Ryder. He says he’s just separating from his wife and it’s extremely traumatic. They have been together since high school. He’s a tad hyper – always on the go, but very entertaining. He usually brings me gifts – flowers, magazines, stuffed toys and cards. Also he’s a diver and underwater photog. Today he brought pink roses.
Avril warns me not to fall in love. Just date. Easy to say! I want security, privacy, ecstasy, exclusivity… and love. It’s a problem!
The oilman came to the house today says he’s shocked we have no credit references and will have to pay COD! Fortunately, I had just got off work and I had the cash on me but I don’t like it at all. Guess we won’t need much oil till winter. Let’s hope.
Ryder gave me a long spiel about how he gave another dancer a ride home (Darlene) and she expected him to go to bed with her and he said, I don’t do that. I could tell he was sounding me out! I said, I don’t either! No sex, ever! Sex, bad. He laughed till it hurt and he begged for mercy.
Poor Avril had a long hard day – 7:30 AM to 6:30! I promised to take her out to eat at Steak & Egg if she picks me up. She said make it Bob’s and it’s a deal.
Sat 10 July 76 – 9 pm – Shalimar 7 hours packing at Zevin Towers before I showed up here.
10:30 AM Tues 6 July 76 Sitting on a mattress on the floor of my Tyler St
bedroom surrounded by a jumble of stuff. So exciting starting a New Life. This time I am waiting for the gasman – if he doesn’t come by 1 pm I have to leave.
9:25 PM – sitting in the Shalimar dressing room eating a plum. Last night A and I saw Antonioni’s The Passenger. Goes down with La Prisonniere, Persona, Pierrot Le Fou and Weekend as one of my favorite all-time films. So perfectly constructed it was like a series of Canalettos. Ryder just asked me if I wanted to go to dinner some- time. I said sure. He asked me about a lot of Italian food I didn’t recognize – I said I like everything. Covered with sweat from dancing to ”No one knows what its like to be the bad man…” have to take it really slow, freezing in a series of poses. Then suddenly I meet someone’s eyes and he drops his drink.
I hate packing. Getting to be a bit of a trial having Ryder in the bar all the time. His expressions embarrass me to dance around him. I said I thought this place was full of stories. He said, don’t stay here just to pick up stories. He said he would “subsidize” me to keep me from “doing this.” Hmmmm. Right after talking about how little money he’ll have when he splits with his wife!
He’s been offered a job in Detroit for a lot more money – that’s how they get ahead in his business – jump from station to station. I told him he should take it – turned out that was the “wrong thing” because he hoped I’d want him here. But I told him, I’m a citizen of the world. I can go anywhere. Fear only empty experiences. So he says, why are you doing this? I said, to meet you. Otherwise he is perfect. So charming, smart and funny, with so much ambition, spirituality and humility.
4 sets left – then 2 days off. Just bought 3 costumes from Sunny for $30. Feeling personally confident in a way I haven’t for years. R invites me out to dinner next week. Have to buy special shoes so I won’t be too tall and tower over him. Today marks year and a half since my separation from Bruce.
If This Archetype Chooses You – You are surrounded by magical possibilities. Are you dreaming of eternal bliss? Floating in connectedness? In Love the boundaries of the other disappear, all is forgiveness. Merge fearlessly, knowing you will be able to get yourself back any time, soothed, improved, and healed.
We Are Creatives for Love – Love is the spirit that animates the empty spaces between humans. Once charged, these spaces become a powerful force for growth and change – uncharged they are so much dead air. This is the space that creatives protect. Love is the longing to be truly alive and to share life with the Blissed, Blessed Others.
Our Yearning Defines and Connects Us – As children we thought we knew about miracles but it seems we have forgotten. As creatives we fight for our ancestral memories of trust and closeness. How we long to be reminded of the ecstasy of selflessness, to re-experience the borderlessness between creatures that makes a dead universe come alive.
Love Is Our Armor – It’s a spiral, our labyrinth, remember? We can’t go back, we can only go forward. We practice techniques and invent others as we design and redesign purposeful maps in a threatening and uncertain world. We have the collective confidence of all the brilliance of the creatives who came before us. Someone loved us once, eternalizing the golden moment, now we can re-create and perpetuate that magic by creating our own miracles.
Creative Danger – Danger lies in narrowing, exclusionary definitions of what ‘can’t” happen, what “won’t” work. Creatives explode restrictions all the time. Love must ever open outwards. As soon as we turn Love into a zero-sum game with a shut-off valve focused on our own narrow gratification, Love dies.
Creative Opportunity – Love Is always a Miracle – It can restore the dead to life. It can open minds, it can awaken hearts. The possibilities of a creative are endless because we have chosen, with our flexibility and our sympathetic understanding, to be endless. Close your eyes and assume yoga’s starfish pose. We are open to what the universe longs to teach and once we commit to pass it on, we form an unbreakable chain, free at last from the bonds and the limits of selfishness. Clasp the hand (or paw) that generously, trustingly takes hold of yours. Let’s venture forth together.
Models & Mentors – ‘to love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides” – David Viscott
“Miracles don’t happen to you, they happen through you.” – Mary Davis
“Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get, only what you are expecting to give, which is everything” – Katherine Hepburn
“Love gives you a piece of your soul you never knew was missing” – Torquato Tasso
“You’ve got to see the miracle to be the miracle.” – Jandy Nelson
“Love is the gift of oneself” – Jean Anouilh
“I love you for who I am when I’m with you” – Elizabeth Barrett Browning
#Haiku: Love Transfer
The secret of breaking Any bad habit Is to love Something more
If This Archetype Chooses You – You need to learn to enjoy yourself. Enjoy your time off. Do you find your reveries organized around beaches, vacations, relaxation, memories of happy times when you had nothing to do but bliss out; feeling only the moment?
Peace is Possible. Serenity is an Idea. Most of us are familiar with the “serenity prayer” written by theologian Reinhold Niebuhr:
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference, living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time; taking this world as it is and not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right.“
The Serenity Prayer works as an inoculation against pointless worry, which is seen as “borrowing trouble.”
Creative Challenge – Like meditation, serenity is a mental state that takes practice. Make a list of your most pressing concerns. Can you do anything about any of them today? If so, appoint a time when you will take a step towards resolving this concern. If you can’t do anything about it, put it forcefully out of your mind. Imagine your worries as a bunch of balloons. Now let them go, one by one. Put each useless worry on a piece of paper and burn them slowly, one by one.
Creative Mantra – Give yourself a “serenity mantra” a word or phrase you find comforting and centering, and repeat it out loud to yourself. St. Julian of Norwich recommended: ”All will be well”, Coué offered, “Every day, in every way I am getting better and better”, some yoga enthusiasts chant a simple “Om.” You can use a phrase from your own past said to you by a Beloved Person – “now you’ll be fine” “You’re safe” “You’re perfect” “Everything’s all right” or the tried and true: “I love you.” My favorite is from the Book of Revelation: “Every tear is wiped away.”
Creative Danger – Don’t be tempted to become a mentor while you’re still learning. Creatives want to be helpful but this is a snare. Mentoring is an end-of-life honor, but you are still placing the oxygen mask on your own face so that you can stay on your plan. Show friends the basics but don’t walk them through it. You’re busy.
FOMO – We are all worried about “missing” something. Often that “centering person”, that reassuring person from our past is not just the one who gave us the relaxation code, but is also the same one who told us what to worry about: ie. ”Make sure all the locks are locked” “Have you done your homework?” There certainly are things to be concerned about (“Are you registered to vote?”) but there are plenty of worries we CAN’T address. Return to the serenity prayer and start weeding out – on paper – your Justifiable Concerns. One of the best things about Anxiety – and I mean this – is that it offers an opportunity to ask for help. Yes, I say “opportunity”! Because life is all about RELATIONSHIPS.
Worries can be Chances to Forge Meaningful, Worthwhile Relationships. Get ready to experiment. As with any other relationship in your life, your requirements, tolerance, communication goals are unique. Many people yearn to speak to a “professional” – therapist or life coach – and plenty of professionals out there are auditioning for a little – or a lot – of your hard-earned cash. An excellent place to start is with Proven Gurus like Tolle Eckhart or Pema Chodron who can be accessed for free from any library. See what you think. Evaluate their assistance. Inquire further.
Creatives Know What They Must Do – Others are envious that we have laid out a plan for our lives, that it is flexible, that it is life-enhancing and that it gives us permission to Enjoy. Be humble about this jealousy, but don’t get dragged into making others “feel better” about being stymied. They may be seeking fellowship in their tarpit.
You’re Entitled – Others also could find peace if they began to take control of the drama that rages within them. Point them in a hopeful direction but don’t agree to sit idly with them in their misery. Don’t get sucked in.
Meditation Looks Like Dreaming – The secret is, there is enormous pleasure in being a creative. You finally feel your strength, and when you know the value of your time, you feel your own value. This is what others yearn for. They can learn it, too. But in the mean time you are enjoying your hard-fought serenity.
We Need So Little to Be Happy – This is the great realization. One bowl, one mat, one dawn. The comfort of another’s presence or the pleasure of your own thoughts. The joy of another morning, another night’s rest. The confidence of a clear head. Welcome to the Universe.
Models & Mentors – “Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.” – The Dalai Lama
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” – Reinhold Niebuhr
“Serenity of spirit and turbulence of action make up the sum of life” – Vita Sackville-West
“Enjoy the peace of nature and declutter your inner world” – Amit Ray
If This Archetype Chooses You – Do you need to forgive… or be forgiven? Most of us require both! Ask your dreams. Do you dream of home? Sometimes we dream of a home that no longer exists, or never existed. “Home” represents the state of psychic absolution where all mistakes are forgiven and forgotten.
Creatives Create the Future – We commit to the ultimate compassion that we are all in this together. Jesus suggests that understanding doesn’t arrive until we learn to be the “forgivers”. Obviously, this means we must learn – somehow – to forgive ourselves.
Creatives Create Heaven – Such forgiveness helps us achieve the state of spiritual lightness that allows a creative to float through time, history, even the universe.
Creatives Are at Home in the World – What’s your “dream home”? A creative’s training emphasizes understanding and managing the fragility of the human body and the objective world, and accepting our healing and unifying mandate. Once we have scoped out the terrain and the inhabitants, Creatives are at “home” anywhere.
Creatives are About Justice – But not the kind that leaves more brokenness behind. Creatives achievements and physical selves display the triumph of thought, will and love.
What Does It Mean to “Start Over”? – We don’t wish to be free of “consequences”. We want to learn and grow from our mistakes but not be humiliated and punished for them. Pretending they didn’t happen doesn’t free us. Seeing our mistakes as moves in a dance we are all contributing to frees us from painful rumination and helps escape and explain the prison of blame. “I did this because you …” Human interactions are a tar-pit in which we trap and tar ourselves. We realize we need to forgive every chain in the event pattern if we are ever to have any peace.
It’s All About You – Robert Frost defines “home” as a place where, when you show up, they have to take you in. Defining “they” defines your group, your original home. Philosophy may provide an answer. Buddhists see history as a circle, Christians as a spiral. The question for Christians is, which direction is the spiral headed and do we have time to learn what we need to know before there’s a cataclysm? Can you define the mess we’re in and intuit your behavioral contribution? Is it possible to detach from the mess? In what group – or even in what “moment” can you detach from the mess?
Creatives’ Danger – We can’t afford to get mixed up about right and wrong. “By their fruits shall you know them.” Think it through. One avenue leads to health, dignity and growth; the other leads in the opposite direction. Don’t make the mistake of “fundamental attribution error”. The threat is NOT coming from inside the house. Martin Luther King Jr. made the wise comment that our specific brand of capitalism tends toward is “socialism for the rich and rugged individualism for the rest of us.” It certainly suits corporations to lecture their employees on building a better world without incorporating any of those ideas into the bigger picture, where we have no control and they demand absolute freedom to do whatever whimsy directs.
What Is the Bigger Picture? Health and safety for all living things to achieve their growth potential as part of a harmonious, non-exploitative whole. It is key that our resistance – which is necessary and life-giving – not embitter us.
Forgiveness Is Our Armor – Forgiveness doesn’t require ignoring the past or accepting bad behavior. It’s part of an interaction where forgiveness is a request, not a demand. Usually there is a recognition of fault or an expression of remorse: “I’ll never do that again!” When the requesting party instead seeks permission for the suffering to continue, “I can’t change – that’s the way I am” — that’ a different request. “Home” is not re-created that way. Hell is. Your opportunity is to point this out – if necessary, (because of safety) only to yourself. “If I’m not willing to try giving up my participation in this suffering because I think I’m not able to, then this pattern will continually get worse.” Time to construct a better – more intelligent map.
Models & Mentors – “It’s not an easy journey to get to a place where you forgive people. But it’s a powerful place, because it frees you” – Tyler Perry
“The practice of forgiveness is our most important contribution to the healing of the world” – Marianne Williamson
“The weak can’t forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong” – Mahatma Gandhi
“To forgive one another, we must understand one another” – Emma Goldman
“Forgiveness does not exonerate the perpetrator. It liberates the victim. It’s a gift you give yourself” – T.D. Jakes
#Haiku: Forgiveness
Returning home with Newborn eyes Strong hands Fresh translations Future’s past
Alysse Aallyn 