Parade Girl.

 

Hope you have a relaxing Memorial Day. Respect to those who protect us. -- C.A. MacConnell

Clam

Take me inside.
These fragile tables,
these empty vases,
these antique chairs
have seen better days,
my friend. Outside,
weathered birds
poke hole after hole
into crooked trees,
furiously feeding,
deeply stabbing
at the edges. Take
me inside. Alone,
I sit and sip, shifting
through lost ones,
and I wonder where
you are dance-running,
searching for Sugarman,
telling each stranger
about your latest
revelation -- the long
version, freestyle,
whether or not the line
stretches down the aisle.
Tomorrow, you’ll fly
to Africa. Tomorrow,
you’ll buy a hand drum.
Tomorrow, you’ll catch
the lucky shot -- the rarest
herd of albino deer.
Tomorrow, you’ll find
the hidden fork --
a lost, forgotten path
within the infamous
trail. Tomorrow,
you'll be the first man
to ever feel each layer
of rainbow, painting
your fingertips with dew,
holding the most elusive
shades and tones,
one for each day
we live. Surround me
in your overcoat.
Take me inside
your ghetto or classy
room. Take me inside
where ceilings hold
stars and planets.
Take me inside,
where I can twist
the black band
from your hair,
letting it down loose,
whether tangled
or smooth. I will wear
your hippie hat.
I can almost taste
your too-sweet tea.
Take me inside.
Let me slide
like a clam
down your throat.

C.A. MacConnell

 

Photo: Mechanic

 

C.A. MacConnell

Girl, Thursday.

C.A. MacConnell

Taking Sides

I'll just tell you how I feel:  lost, skeptical, and rather edgy. Sort of the "come down" after the anxiety-ridden, tumultuous, painful past two years. Seems like many people feel worn out right about now. I look around, and I see more blank faces than smiles. And the perfect toothy wonders on social media? I have a feeling that some of those fuckers are lost too.

Take a look back at the last year and a half. The whole world was on a tailspin. Consider the pandemic, wild politics, riots, peaceful marches, shootings, hate crimes, masks, sanitizer, creepy hand washing commercials, unemployment, coin shortages, toilet paper anxiety rushes, cancelled concerts, closed-down movie theaters, online schooling, college campus upheaval, financial woes, crushed businesses, Zoom takeover, lack of art and ruined venues, and all of the rules -- stay 6 feet apart, spend time outside, stay alone inside, no groups, no hugging, testing, testing, testing, no touching at all, and of course, the sicknesses, the deaths, and the sparsely-attended funerals. 

People telling loved ones goodbye on cell phones.

No wonder many seem "blah." Yes, that's the scientific term. No wonder many seem lost. No wonder.

Kids struggled without school lunches. Lines for food banks stretched for miles. There were evictions, foreclosures, and daily arguments about masks, candidates, and conspiracy theories. Science and politics became intertwined. One friend isn't talking to his dad. Another, one whole side of his family. A woman lost contact with her kids and grand kids. 

Families were torn to shreds.

People complained of strange illnesses other than Covid:  dizziness, prickly skin, headaches, backaches, toothaches, and on and on. And a slew of the doctor visits produced no answers. It's amazing how powerful the mind can be when it comes to physical ailments. Personally speaking, during this time, I did get the flu during this circus ride, and I remember some other weird doctor visits popping in there for me, but for the life of me, I can't recall what the hell they were about. 

Maybe I just wanted to know that I was OK, like everyone else.

Physically and mentally, I believe, whether I acknowledge it or not, this whole time did a number on me. First, I had trouble with panic due to the masks. Then I practiced and learned how to deal with the masks, and then I started having panic when people took them off. Like everyone else, in an effort to control that which was out of my hands, I did this curious thing -- I picked a side.

All around, suddenly, people were taking sides, choosing allies. Never in my life have I heard about so many people picking sides. Never in my life have I seen so many opinions and arguments about who's right and who's wrong. I admit that I became rather wrapped up in it as well.

But today, as I sit here writing to you, and as the world is beginning to shift again, I'm thinking about the grand scheme of things. As human beings, like men and women back in the cave-dwelling era, I believe that people naturally strive for some sense of safety, comfort, and order. And if peace doesn't arrive, perhaps humans try and create it somewhere else. Some join a political way of thinking. Others identify solely as a runner, a musician, a vegan, a hunter, a yoga instructor, or a thief. Take a look at that badass punk down the block. The two moms pushing strollers. There's always some kind of "way" of being that defines who the person claims to be in this whole mess. 

But what if...instead of grabbing on to a group out of fear or out of the desire for comfort, what if I stopped myself and asked this:  Why am I trying to control this world? Why am I acting out of fear to be part of some group? What if I thought of the group as humanity? What if I...instead...took a look at this:  I have no control, ever. And I never have. Period.

I never had control before all of this happened, and I still don't, even as things are starting to mend. I could hop in my car and end up paralyzed from the neck down. I could head to the bank and discover that someone randomly put money in my account. I could watch someone weep as she proposes to her girlfriend. When I get my hair cut, the scissors could slip. When I run to the store, I could bump into a long lost friend who buys my groceries. When I get my oil changed, I could lose my wallet. A friend had an aneurysm. Another is fighting a debilitating depression. A third is finalizing a divorce. A girl meets her rather persistent soul mate on the net, only to find out that he's had a model girlfriend on the sidelines. The whole damn time, she never had control. Every day, people starve, get shot, fight cancer, go psychotic, adopt greyhounds, lose a leg, and have babies. Every year, someone wins an Academy Award.

No one ever had control. No one does now. Masks, no masks, the right, the left, there is no side, other than the universal one of decency and love. Love is divine; it is a mystery, beyond human and unique. That is the only divine trait we possess, and the only constant that exists, as it flows through us. If I want something to grab on to, something to anchor my presence in this tumultuous world, love is it. Love is the curious, strange constant that creates a sense of the much-sought-after feeling of peace, the feeling that people are unknowingly striving for every day...using various methods of control.

Of course, I try to control everything too. I pick a role. I take sides. I do it every day. I have my ridiculous routine, my exercise, my stubborn opinions, my rigid food choices, my self-imposed introverted existence. Sure, I do it. I try to control like a beast. This past year, and every year, I'm guilty. Every damn day.

But I'm also aware of this:  the only path to peace is love, and all I have is right here, right now. And I may not be perfect at remembering these truths all of the time, but awareness is a strong beginning, and that, fellow cave dwellers, is something. That's the side I'm taking now.

C.A. MacConnell

Lost Glove 13. And Some Juice on Book Four.

 

This is Lost Glove 13, I believe. I took 46 shots of various gloves, and you can see them all here. I'm sure that's on your "to do" list for the day, ha. I became fascinated with these lost items, imagining the stories behind them and such.

You'll see the influence of these shots in Book Four, for sure. Can't miss it. Speaking of which, I've sent the book out to three different readers, so now I'm waiting on some feedback. It'll be interesting to see how they respond to these chilling, psych-driven 400 pages. I usually pick three special folks -- always one editor or writer of course....and the other two are usually quite diverse.

We shall see.

I've seen so many lost items on my walks! Masks, toys, hats, headbands, barrettes, jackets, sweatshirts, a baby's sock, notes, and on and on. Once I found 40 bucks. That was fun. I've been seeing a bald eagle lately...let's see...three times. One day, I saw him swoop down to catch a fish. Eagles are much less skittish than hawks. They come close, their wingspan is huge, and they appear to be much more chill, just gliding along, checking things out, not a care in the world. Hawks are more on a mission. Yesterday, I saw like 20 buzzards, which creeped me out. I've become quite the large bird watcher -- I can tell what kind they are from pretty far away. :) The eagle seems to know me; he likes to swoop in right over my head, creating a shadow there, like an airplane rolling in. He's watching over me, aye.

Hope you're well and happy. BOOK FOUR COMING SOON. Love,

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Reporter.

 

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Leaning

 

C.A. MacConnell