A cell phone I have with me 24 hours a day, unless I've misplaced it of course. It's scuffed on the top, the blue is worn where I've held it so many hours. The silver trim below the small screen scratched. Even the screen is marred with lines where the phone has slipped from my grasp and fallen to concrete as well as to carpet or pillow. A single eye, the camera, gives it a cyclops-like appearance. A sleeping cyclops with that one eye always closed, dreaming of faraway voices.
Holes, a speaker, in 3 rows of 2-4-2 if you look top to bottom, or 4 columns of 1-3-3-1 side to side, in the lower right corner. Small ports, buttons, plastic coverings along the side, below the chipped paint where black peeks through the blue. The dark night winter sky blue, with black holes in the distance.
LG says the label, the brand: Life is Good. Indeed, little phone, it is.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
January 4 Day Three
A white plastic bottle of school glue, its tip an orange rocket ship nose cone, slightly damaged at the top. Below, the cap with vertical ridges. A clockwise arrow points to CLOSE on the top. An arrow in the oppostie direction, to OPEN.
The bottle has shoulders, a long straight torso. On the label, ELMER'S in white letter on a blue banner, just below the orange-tangerine triangle with the smug, smiling head of a bull. His short horns curve upward, just below them his ears sag downward. Arched eyebrow, smirking smile, he is all opposing lines except nothing is there to balance his goofy double chin.
This school glue declares itself to be Washable. To be Safe. To be Non-toxic.
The fine print on a round stamped endorsement at the bottom of the label is so small I have to move to better light to read it. Around the letters AP it says ACMI. Art and Crafts Materials Institute Certified. There are four fluid ounces when this certified glue bottle is full. Mine has the pink 50 cents garage sale sticker still on it and that must be why my glue bottle is only half full. No worry, Elmer's smile remains smug.
The bottle has shoulders, a long straight torso. On the label, ELMER'S in white letter on a blue banner, just below the orange-tangerine triangle with the smug, smiling head of a bull. His short horns curve upward, just below them his ears sag downward. Arched eyebrow, smirking smile, he is all opposing lines except nothing is there to balance his goofy double chin.
This school glue declares itself to be Washable. To be Safe. To be Non-toxic.
The fine print on a round stamped endorsement at the bottom of the label is so small I have to move to better light to read it. Around the letters AP it says ACMI. Art and Crafts Materials Institute Certified. There are four fluid ounces when this certified glue bottle is full. Mine has the pink 50 cents garage sale sticker still on it and that must be why my glue bottle is only half full. No worry, Elmer's smile remains smug.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
January 3 Day Two
The empty box-bottom lies upside down, nestled in the upside-down lid. Plum outside, a shade to make one salivate at the thought of summer fruit yet to come. The inside white, unblemished like fresh snow. But the shadows across that white field are what draw my eye. A roof line, straight and firm on the left -- but wait, on the far edge a slight smudging of shade. On the right, two triangles, one opaque, one more translucent, then below a circle of shadow protecting a small fetus of white light. As our dark sides, our shadows, protect our light, our love, our better selves.
As I stand my ground to protect what I truly am inside and never ever let it be taken away, I draw my own shadows around to watch over me.
Outside the box, thin lines of dark across smooth, smooth blond wood grain of the table top. Above, shadows of another object; to the side a thin line and below a heavy shadow base on which to rest. Rest. Rest. Rest on solid ground.
As I stand my ground to protect what I truly am inside and never ever let it be taken away, I draw my own shadows around to watch over me.
Outside the box, thin lines of dark across smooth, smooth blond wood grain of the table top. Above, shadows of another object; to the side a thin line and below a heavy shadow base on which to rest. Rest. Rest. Rest on solid ground.
January 2 Day One
The used tea bag, pomegranite-cranberry deep regal violet red blotches, against stainless-steel sink edge, looking like what the word bleeding was written to show. Blood sacrifice I think as I gaze into the color. A toe tag that says 'Lipton. Green Tea. 100% Natural.' The tea bag born to give abundant life. The tea, the pomegranite, take and drink in remembrance. In attention. In love.
The weight of so much love, clotting and sinking to the bottom. Dark and heavy, giving shape and ballast to the bag. "Naturally protective antioxidants" reads the back of the tag. Bloody tea stains on half the string, then before the tag, suddenly, pure white line, gravity pulls along the side of the sink. As it pulls everywhere equally at this altitude.
Up, up to higher ground, to air and light. Finally the tag, resurrected, can lift above the weight of all that blood fruit. Can save us from thirst and too much knowledge. From emptiness, the stained bottom of the empty cup.
The weight of so much love, clotting and sinking to the bottom. Dark and heavy, giving shape and ballast to the bag. "Naturally protective antioxidants" reads the back of the tag. Bloody tea stains on half the string, then before the tag, suddenly, pure white line, gravity pulls along the side of the sink. As it pulls everywhere equally at this altitude.
Up, up to higher ground, to air and light. Finally the tag, resurrected, can lift above the weight of all that blood fruit. Can save us from thirst and too much knowledge. From emptiness, the stained bottom of the empty cup.
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