What you ask..
everything.
Somehow all these things relate.
From my ongoing photography series about my Dad.we sit and chat here...
I had one of those talks with my father tonight, after work. We sanded and routed a dozen pieces of oak today. I wouldn't say I'm a Daddy's girl, honestly that phrase has never sit well with me, but I will say that I have always felt strangely connected to my father and his way of thinking. I'm a divorce kid. I always had this weird way of being über conscious of his emotions, and I would fixate on his every word. I still fixate on his every word. He used to joke sometimes, "I'm gonna kill myself." As a kid, for years, I never picked up on the joke part, and used to worry like mad that he's was actually going to. I told him this tonight. After a few drinks, two beers on my part, Grand Marnier on his, we had one of those convos that we've had, occasionally, before. Where he talks about his colorful past and I can't help but compare my tame existence with his wild one. After telling me of his affairs, his one million girlfriends, and apartments, his el camino, his leather pants, trips to Cafe' Elan and Bleeps, marriages, partying every night, he then reminded me of the dark parts, the somberly colored roots of his childhood. He experienced a lot of scarring from his dysfunctional upbringing, and, later, lots of stress from his relationships with women. He used to say "I'm gonna kill myself." But he never did. Now I say it sometimes, in passing, how I wanna kill myself cause this is so annoying or that is all f-ed up, blah, blah, blah. But in his quirky way over a cigarette he tells me, "hey, hang tight...you'll be aight."
Well now I'm ready to try it. The fear does hover over my head a lot though... It's good to talk to him, a survivor of sorts. Sometimes it's hard to hear the stories, sometimes it brings up my scars. Tonight, in a kind of joking manner I told him that the anxiety makes me sometimes wanna fuckin' kill myself.
He told me not to.
Darla says fake it 'til you make it. Well that's exactly what my father did at 24. And still does at 54. And I'm gonna try it now. I'll have to train that part of my head to buy into that idea, faking it until making it. What can I say? I'm thick-headed, a product of my parents. ..Maybe I just need some "me" time..
I was watching the eleven o'clock news. This lady in the suburbs killed herself and her young son at home. Her husband came home and found their bodies. Neighbors said she was sweet but off. The news report said that she was battling depression... Then, a 22 year old, riding on the el with her infant baby, was held at knife point in her seat and sexually assaulted by a man. They said that people around her didn't know it was happening because she didn't scream. He fondled her while her baby was on her lap.
I did a phone interview this week, yesterday actually, for a website. I was asked questions about my work, what inspires me, what it's about, etc., and I said something about a particular thing that's always inspired me in a way I have never said before. I told her that I am inspired by the contemplations of women and how I felt that all women share on some level a constant and, at times, common state of contemplation, dynamic, abuzz and alive. The ignition, the starting spark in the thought machine of the female mind, the seasoned thoughts, these things differ from female to female. But that linking thread is there...I watched the news tonight and something about what I had said earlier during my interview clicked with these two tales of misfortune.
My dad and I said tonight that we're going to get tattoos that read "such is life"...
buona.
xo ac
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