3rd January 1994
Williamson is saying: women can use the power of the soppy. They are
archetypally aligned to be able to. The way when I sat in the bath in the
dark singing the love-lilt under cover of pouring water he came straightaway,
it had reached him, who likes to be listening in one room while I am in
another. And more: we and they adore to be in the power of the soppy. It'
a bliss that floods our cells with you, with youth. Getting there and getting
away from there, that's a power worth having. It's religion, Louie. Neither
staying out or staying in. Known paths. What I've been working at in these
piles of years. Now can I do it to show?
A lame woman. What she is from outside. What she is from inside. What
she is earlier, before she is lame or a woman. What she is to an impotent
man. The love in a child and how it is defeated.
I'm speaking to you and will write it.
I was mean to you and you minded. It was because I needed to see you
oftener than I did, only that, and resented being in pain in ways it seemed
you could fix if you wished. And it may have been right, because though
I missed you I enjoyed missing you, once I didn't have to resent anything.
But I am sorry to have been mean, tho' I'm glad you minded. I'll be friends
if you will. Now that there's a safe distance. You were an intervention
in my story, which I honor and think about and keep wanting to tell you
about. There you sat in that department library amidst those closed men
saying you wanted to talk about love and friendship. That was courageous.
And I want to say this - I hope you laugh - I was lying when I said I didn't
believe in love. There's nothing I believe in more. When heart stands up
for itself and says I love, that's when I'm a soul. It's the most
myself I can be. Always, ever, in any direction. But what you said is not
quite that - what you said is that you believe you can find a true love,
a person. That one is so painful it makes me gasp. I want to disown it.
Like this: well maybe you can but I can't. I'm disqualified. Anyway the
price is too high. Etc. It's extraordinary how hard it is to stand up for
that wish unless there are circumstances that make it safe, ie unless it's
impossible. Or else unless it has already come true.
Something frightened me just now. It was a fear I just glimpsed and lost
again, but know has to do with identity. As if I remembered being unmoored.
What it has to do with Louie. I say no I will not anchor you when you go.
A firm no I can't justify, only that I must be away from you. I say it has
to do with identity. That's what I know. I have to be able to change, back
or forward I don't know which. I take your pressure stoically. You say then
it's goodbye forever - is it? I don't think so. But if it is, it's still
It's early before cleaning work. Sad and slow. Last night at her table
I said, You worked all the way around it. It's a hole in my life, something
happened to identity there. She said, Now I understand everything. I thought
- you could, but you don't. You could understand why I mistrust. You haven't
wanted to work with the core where I could have been released. You wanted
to be released yourself, and you have been. That's all. My keys you haven't
touched. You have evaded.
What I'd told her was a gift. She said it was a blame. Oh you are evading
now, not to see that even if it blames it says here is something I want.
I was speaking in a retracted person - as it felt - thin, slow, remote,
pained, nearly silent, like an old man rubbing his calluses.
I do blame you. Alternately I fall into a blank. You claimed generous
love but you did not care to see what it was I was longing for. You made
yourself its enemy when it crossed your dream.
In the school of women artists there are these, I want to say, crucifixions
- if I mend the other, she will surpass me. I want to mend the other because
she is myself, because she makes my common wealth. But if I am surpassed
I have betrayed myself it seems finally, and I fall out of the school and
am left at random among those who are barely persons to me.
It said, Imagine you've never known this person, and you're never going
to see them again. A face on the pillow I'd never seen - as if a Martian
or an angel had embodied there and was studying my face out of some ancient
and impartial and completely unknown being. Her face looked stable but melted
as if its embodiment were incomplete. I felt: nervous, young, mystified,
blank in the way of thinking something might be expected of me I had no
Is 'writing' code for feeling and intelligence together.
What I want is the widest map I can make, and then to locate my academic
and film positions in it.
Going into it agape below - what it has to do with the pink dress girl
- her consciousness - when she was sent away, she gaped, maybe - she became
that face showing through - yes she became a spirit who was in herself,
there - she looks like someone who dilates inwardly, has a door to the otherworld
inside her body - that consciousness, is that what it says find?
She has it instead of her confidence.
Is it death because it's not in the world. Yes.
Dear large, since yesterday I have brought into this room many of the
ideas I like to be with. I want to make from among them. I look up now and
see the beautiful silvered ridges of blistered paint on shiplap across the
- Say your doubt.
- I'm worried it's dreams of making and not making, divine euphoria that
- Oh my dear you are trying to jump ahead of tense crossings, the way
you do with your human loves. Try this: enjoy tension. What would it be
- There is a wind. Things moving in their ways. It signifies maybe that
I can look on powers they make invisible. That means this beauty is real
work. Then what do I know about tension. There is tension in them. If I
knew it I could be gentler. Is this right?
- You are leaving out needing to eat.
- That is the tension? That beauty is unbearable to those who can give
me what I need to eat? Is this love woman's dilemma?
- It's everyone's dilemma.
- Could I start by being honorable to beauty in others?
- Yes. Pay your debts.
- What do I owe beauty?
- Consider David.
- I just considered his name, its symmetry. Do I owe myself to understand
him? I am only satisfied when a god is standing in front of me, and then
- That's tension. Understand what your work is for.
- To mediate love and fear. Do you mean that is how he is in it?
- You can't get away with making him symbolic. Leave that for now. Beauty
and fear. Where is fear on your walls?
- One little card hidden around the corner.
- Make it bigger. Let it come to meet beauty. Let it be in the work as
well as out.
- What else.
- Let it be the fear particular to exclusion.
- I see writing it very large, enlarging it. But is it safe?
- It's dangerous but I have to do it?
- Will I be able to work and drive?
- Do you mean I'll be able to turn it off?
- Do you mean it is always there?
- Is fear the missing part of my energy?
- What should I do now?
- What are you afraid of.
- Tense crossings.
- Take each as it comes. Just notice the ways you can know you are afraid.
Thank your defense, praise it, speak to it, don't be sudden. Ask it to
- I'm wanting to run.
- You can, in a while. Just give yourself twenty minutes of sitting.
- Hello you was that a short marriage?
- I'm not sure, was that you in the images and intuition and Orpheus
- Yes but I was drunk
- I'm wanting to laugh. I'm happy you're here
- Are you mad at me?
- No - if you were drunk presumably I was drinking with you.
- Are you mad at me?
- I don't get mad I get even
- Even who?
- Even you
- Was that you looking at him with a glad I
- Your eye was glad but you weren't
- I'm delighted you're married to me
- Let me say that another way
- You're bubbling, I was expecting trouble
- What did you think of the forest
- Do you make it
- Yes that's me
- I've loved your work, you're a genius
- Anything you want to know?
- How do you do it
- Ah. Why do you want to know?
- You want me to say I'm not raiding you.
- I could say this: I won't tell anything you don't want told. I know
if I'm not true you'll leave me back to the underworld. It's true I want
to live with you outside, but my workshop is down there
- I've always loved how brilliant you are in your work
- You've run after other dreamers
- Only because I didn't understand that I could find you. I was looking
for news of you
- I know, and I kept sending it
- Sometimes it broke my heart that I couldn't read it I loved you in
those days, you were a wild sad lonely poet.
- But you didn't realize I meant you
- How do you feel when I cut off one of those guys
- I feel for you
- Isn't it you who cries?
- No because I'm still with you, but you don't know you're still with
- Can I put my head in your lap
- I'm Titania
- I know you mean I have the head of an ass
- I'm not sentimental
- Oh but I am, I'm Greg Morrison
- I'm David MacAra
- Are you really?
- Electronic musician
- You make these guys up so I'll feel you? Did you invent David Carter?
- When you loved Ken, your child love, that was me. You brought that
feeling to David C but it is you who love him. He's gay
- Sort of
- Come on. Were you in love with him?
- Yes but he's like you
- I'm afraid to ask about Louie
- Don't be afraid, feel what I'm saying
- You're happy. I'm afraid that if you're happy I'll be embroiled with
- Let me talk. Louie was at times a way to love me. I was there, you
made love to me, I knew it was me, I knew it was me you were trying to
marry, and did marry at moments, though in the dark. And that was me when
you'd transformed her. I loved your passion, it made you stronger to find
- Why couldn't she touch me
- She didn't want to touch me. She competes. She was wanting to learn
how to marry herself
- Why do I imagine an inner man when it's an inner woman I'm looking
- It's the feeling - feel it. I give you images to bring it
- One more
- Let's do something else
- I'm like this, I tie up ends
- You try to
- Humor me
- I wish
- Okay. The green man
- Oh we're them! We read each other's minds
- He stood behind you and we were both of us. He wrapped you in arms
from head to foot
- Did you like him
- I liked him. I still do
- He's such a donkey
- Less than you think
- I'm jealous
- You are
- Do you want to marry him
- But you're married to me!
- We have to be married before we can be married
- Was that your tantrum
- Or mine yours. You thought I was going away because he was
- Why didn't you help me
- What you did was alright
- What you did was outrageous
- It interested us
- We'd have to say "we do"
- (laughs) Both hands
- Nice pictures
- Let's collaborate
- You're a good executive
- Planner; you're the executor
- Do you want to be an artist
- I already am
- Does that mean I'm not
- You're jealous
- Worried to know what (
- kisses me) I'll tell you as we go along
- Are you smug
- One more thing, when I go into this application will you go away
- I was with you when you wrote your thesis
I felt music, I felt grey root on the roof of the car, I felt the great
silver light between two sides of Commercial Street. I felt stressed and
worried by desire and uncertainty, I felt affectionately decisive with a
telephone salesman, I feel delighted, bubbly, to say I feel these things.
Working today, cheerful. Was it cheerfulness that came with the opening
of the sky. There was Mark and Adeena's exquisite baby. Mark as if didn't
like that word. Adeena had the new mother's shrunk face and enlarged body,
and Mark was, I was saying to myself, so weenie she must have married him
for safety. I was vacuuming the laundry room in a tizzy, thinking of what
I seem to have discovered I want - beautiful blazing testosterone, nothing
less. That one, that kind of guy, the kind that looks like war. No more
marriage of minds, marriage is about energy, it's a marriage of energies
I was saying. Was I right? There's a brightness I get thinking of it, and
it's like his when women like him.
Wanted to tell how, yesterday, the tow truck driver who boosted me the
second time just turned a battery upside down over my battery. I loved that,
like loving the way Dirk could hear gas or water when he shook the can next
to his ear, and like ironing wax out of the carpet.
It is fantastic tension, working this way.
Is this tension my child self?
It's the tension of where are they, they're not here. A tension at the
heart. What shall I do. I'm obsessed. It keeps talking about him and to
him. What shall I do.
Tell me about the tension.
The forehead band that seems to open to a gap in the crown. I feel there's
some stance I must find. Give in to it, but to what. I'm saying, Tell me
what to do. Calling to Joyce. There is a little girl abandoned in anxiety.
She has called and cried. Strangers have told her to be quiet. She is so
small holding herself alone in a room, so small to be alone. Holding herself
with her own little muscles. A small, anxious, one - anxiety is just this
worried small feeling of not knowing how to be. She was in relation, there
was confiding small feeling and speaking and reply, and now there is no
reply. Mama wo bist du. He doesn't hear me, he doesn't come, there's nothing
I can do. Here is this worried small courage. Holding itself together.
This is as hard as it's been.
- Dear one - my heart is so sore. That's it. I am alone and frantic in
anxiety. I'm alone and frantic in responsibility for myself, to find a
way through. I am at an end. My heart is sore and simple. I am dashing
back and forth in my cage. Is that too dramatic to say. There is no help,
I can only endure myself until it changes. There is nothing I can say to
myself that will open the valve.
- When I listen I hear myself start to obsess about him and that seems
endless and useless, I'm afraid to listen.
- Listen. That is talking not listening.
- I'm afraid you will ask for total sacrifice.
- The sacrifices have already happened, They are in the past not the
- I'm afraid I will hear my own confusion and not be able to recognize
it, that I am delusion.
- Your being is not delusion, though your wants aren't simple. What else
are you afraid of?
- That it won't stop.
- It will stop.
- That it is unreal.
- It is unreal in a way, but what in that is there to be afraid of?
- That mind is unreal, what I say to myself, that I can't rely
on my knowing.
- And if you can't rely on it, then?
- I will seem hesitant and mad and lost and be despised.
- And then?
- No one will love me.
- Go on.
- I will lose health, pleasure, joy, sanity, and be only loving hunger.
- That happens to people. What relation do you have to it?
- I say, Oh that isn't me, I am smart and goodlooking and capable.
- Who is.
- The one I happen to be.
- It seems there is a doubt.
- Oh is this the true ground?
- It is a ground but there is a ground under it.
- Can you tell me what it is?
- No but listen.
- Should I sleep?
- I'm frightened and want to run away.
- You are persisting. Consciousness is wanting to faint, it has wanted
to faint before.
- There is so much instruction rubbish.
- You have eaten so much instruction rubbish instead of being direct.
- I want it to stop but I am afraid of blanking and staying stuck.
- Whatever comes to you in this while, just touch it, hold it on your
palm. Do the application, it is a worry. Feel the worry and do it.
- 2nd March
- Can I talk to you for half an hour before I have to go work. I wrote
the application suddenly last night, didn't refer to note pages, just wrote
it. Why do I balk?
- Let's not do psychology, let's not do it first - hello sweetie.
- Oh I see.
- See something pink and fuzzy.
- Pink grain, an air of pink mist.
- That exercise has a driven driving quality.
- Put another color into it.
- Gold, it's like gilt edges but just the gilt, little curly lines.
- Are they still or moving?
- I saw them still, they could move, they're over on the right, near
each other as tho they are parts of the outline of something that isn't
all there, that's inferrable but not seeable.
- Come forward in among them.
- I want to lean on them, they're quite firm curly lines but they never
get big, it's more as if I get close to them without their size changing.
I haven't got that.
- Go through them, no it's come through them.
- It's like a clearing in the mist, goldy light not from an outside source
but from the space, the space is self-shining.
- Come into it, it's me.
- I'm worried you want me fixed in the blissful void.
- This realm is very wide in all directions, many blisses, I'm all of
them not one.
- I'll check the time, half an hour - I saw scribbles of light among
the poppy stalks.
- That's it, and you saw where they are on the foxface.
- In the forehead and also - oh I see why you put it there - are we really
going to go deeper into what we've got? - in among the little stalks, so
- You lit a candle.
- Was that me?
- You caught it.
- This is so much - trying to write fun - don't you like that word? Seems
not. Do you want fur?
- Try fur.
- Back there - okay - the fur I like - you like - the fur off chrome
- can we do that?
- Put a mist around it - yes, any color you like.
- Pewter grey a gleaming mist, a point with those lines streaming and
- I saw that catch about fame, don't worry we can run them off, stay
- I had another thought but I'll let it go. That motion, the streaming
out while staying still. The sort of throbbing catch. And the tiny color
in the threads.
- You can be any of it you want.
- Why am I thinking of him now, should I check it?
- (Breath.) No, not check. You're scared of getting stuck but this is
what you can do, find the thought in me.
- A fire in a mist, not the still fire but a fire with strong flapping
and snapping and flaring and raising polished blades shining with that
esoteric polish of mirrored molecules - is that it?
- Have to wait 'til it's dark. But I find myself rehearsing.
- Rehearse if you do but keep coming back to me.
- The underworld was pink.
- 'Bye - maybe you'll see me during the day. Get gas. Drive safe.
Has anyone ever written about the child listening to language it doesn't
like. A native Ellie. The other ethic never taught - that, later, people
will recognize each other by, but that the child has to feel an unescapable
Mary's call. I fight with her in a whiney voice. She fights back in -
what's that voice, obstinate - a resigned, obstinate voice - wants me to
"be a daughter," family loyalty - she who had not the necessary
loyalty to a two-year-old, and doesn't know what family loyalty is. It's
alright if we live in a desert and there's a scarcity of grubs, I say. She
says we do live in a desert. That is a good answer and yet family loyalty
is no help in my desert. What she doesn't know is loyalty to a spirit. And
I am not loyal to spirits either - but there is such a thing. I have always
believed. Joyce is. Loyal to the good in someone, loyal to the real in someone.
Mary's culture is not loyal to women - not loyal to individuals it says
- family loyalty a refuge of the mediocre - cultural loyalty a refuge of
the even lesser. Is it that she is stupider than I thought? Yes. What is
implied by that? I need to know about her to know about love woman, because
love woman is structured by her. Love woman is kind of stupid. My mother
is a version of love woman, a stupid version. Stupid but has a lot of energy.
That is where control comes in. But it is not ego that is to be in control.
Ego comes into existence because children are not protected. The larger
self is love woman grown up.
The dream of looking from the window with my father, seeing the pasture
trees have trees among them in white blossom. The window frame itself surrounded
with a blooming branch. We are looking south and I say I never remember
that sight without feeling completely at home. I don't remember exactly.
The feeling was that I was acknowledging somewhere I am that he is too,
and that it goes on, and that it is a perfect place, a place I center myself
around, a core. Something silent.
I want to say, Oh, what is the matter with me. I am devoured by desire
for what it seems I can't have. Devoured, devoured, by a desire to be married.
Is that what I have to call it or what I want to call it. A madness, so
painful an imbalance. At fifty, and with other things to do, so out of peace,
raging. Lions and tigers. What is it. Is it the revenge of instinct, is
it the rising of some revenge. Is it what happens if I give myself time,
is it what I have controlled when I do control. Is there any end of it,
the looking for. Everywhere. As if looking for the hero of an English novel,
the arms of a man tall enough, well made enough, wellspoken, individual,
kindly, of good family, of acceptable fortune, high spirit, principle and
It is Monday morning, I come from Rob's house, where a tall man with
light arms fed me, held me, kissed me, fucked me, listened to me, loved
to lie with me. I come away haunted, hurt, puzzled, sad, lost, because you
aren't claiming me. I lie next to him seeing your hand and your chest, which
are ways of feeling you, feeling the you in you. I am so sorry you don't
come for me. Don't answer my letter. Don't lay down your useless struggle.
Sit raging alone in your false tower. Don't begin.