…internal journal…

  January 6, 2005

So… the talks we have, long and into the night, are frequented
with lots of booze, but when he’s inebriated, he really talks,
expounds with theories and diatribes, on ethics and commitments,
on his mind set and why.

It’s pretty darned interesting, but it’s also a lot of work.  I feel
exhausted from it, and I’m not quite sure of the whys.
I feel like I need to record this, and that it is important somehow.
But why do I feel this way?

It is important because he is a movie in the making, because his
voice is a broad band of incomparable experience of Maleness
in this world.
.. or am I just puffing it all up with importance…?

You can see the cover of my old journal, and it speaks for itself.
I knew what I was getting in to, yet there was no going back.

Interesting things are occurring in my brain throughout all of this…
First there was the fantasy, the romantic movies that were left in
my storehouse, replayed so many times that I was truly unsure of
what was the truth anymore.

I remember writing quickly, to remember clearly, so as not to distort
it, but still after all this time, I am no longer assured it is the truth.
No one else even knew him, except my daughter Piney a little, and
she adored him.  A couple people MET him, but I know no one else
now who Knew him then.

So as these weeks have passed, I notice the old movies fading, and
a new gathering image formulating before me.   One based on bits
and pieces, gleaned from long conversations, one building upon
another, like pixels filling in the dots to dots, and a new man begins
to emerge before me, in my mind’s eye.

Yet these eyes, which lived to eat up his countenance, these eyes
which were so delightfully pleased with the sensual pleasures of his
physical self…….they are not allowed to be involved in this re-
formulation yet, this complete re-assembling of information.

And now I see the brain attempting to overlay one upon the other,
the  old, or rather Younger Alcir, the iconic hero character who
flashed in and out of my reality…overlayed like images on Velum…
over this new Alcir, the more complex and complete picture of the
man, without the eyes filling in and informing my soul.

These eyes see much, and I depend on them to grant me information
that they grasp on so many levels.  Will they adore what they see,
or will they speak of pain and sadness, and too much to handle?

This other life that I head towards, this being that impacted my orbit
with great explosions and re-adjustments…that in effect changed
some of my life’s directions..  enlarging my horizons, and filled in
spaces by his very existence..can I now integrate him into my
daily life, can I hold it all, and still keep hold of myself?

We are tumbling towards eachother, as surely as stars on trajectory
into a future that holds more explosions and murgings, to
create a new being, a new reality, a new star in the night sky.
What will this star pour out into the universe?
And what is IT’s life about?

This particular evening, after he’s heard I have a ticket,
a date, a plan…
…..after he’s been back in the shadows smoking his cigar,
hiding his hopes…
After spreading himself like jam on my  toast …
with that poem, that said his heart was new and open…
….after the shared heart stories…
….his youthful joy renewed…

He’s been back there, waiting for my true reply, waiting to SEE…
“I want to SEE it”   he’s said, over and over.

So he leaves the phone to pee…and when he comes back,
his voice is insistent…
“One thing just occurred to me…
You’re not Bullshitting me, are you?”

It was a statement, not a question.



…the waiting begins…

Oh my, where was I?  I do leave this Tale of Love from time to time,
for a break in the effort, which is a little arduous, but don’t you find
you can’t wait for the next Chapter?  Good!
As I recall, I was having heart palpitations over the poem sent
to me from Brasil.
Passionate and completely mad, still my girlish heart had been
captured, and the desire to share swept over me til I drowned in it.
Girls just Have to share…

There was one person who could grok the moment, and that was
my daughter Piney.

I was living with her at the time, before, during and after she moved
into a new house in our area of Oregon, and she’d been kept abreast
of the goings-on with him.
She had known him during the times he visited me back in the eighties,
and was quite fond of him.  She found him funny, smart and playful,
and a rather exciting character to a kid.
Sort of like a real life Jack Sparrow, all dashing and full of tall tales
of courage and wild adventures… but not so much eye makeup…

It wasn’t long before I got an email from the little miss… who was
now a bit of an international, as her work (promotion for big companies) lead her to travel.

“Re:   sugar and spice and…GET OFF THE INTERNET!”  read the line,
so I did…
…but only after I read the note:

“hey mom,

trying to call you, you must be on line. give me a call when you
get this e-mail.
i have something to tell you…. something you’ll like….a lot.


What she had to tell me would now stop my breath as well…. Great…
now I can’t breath, And my heart has already stopped..

She had Tons of Miles to spare, and offered me a Ticket to Brasil…

Oh Good Grief.  Not only him, but Brasil too?  Completely Unreal.
Brain Overload, tape loops, wake up sweats…

So now the plans began, and I had Two Months to wrap up my life,
get ready for another reality, and of course…loose a few pounds…
I Am a girl after all.
He desperately wanted me to be there for his Birthday…Feb 14th…

He was ecstatic, I swung between several states of mind, but mostly
I worked on bringing my brain to the present, and …..
Just What was this Reality that I had called to myself…?