Well beyond 60, I am asking:
Who is she? Why is she looking at me? What does she want? How can I understand
her? How do I make her move or want to move (her body), shop for essentials,
wash the car, unpack the books – want to do everyday things? She has visions of
the couch, of resting, of sleep.
In the dusk of the day around 8 PM her energy picks up and if she is not
careful, the day will begin while everyone else is sleeping and the next day
will be lost to fog.
At 11 PM I began watching
Waste Land, a documentary about Photographer Vik Muniz and his amazing work
with the garbage pickers (actually recyclers) of Rio de Janeiro; the poor who
make an honest living they proclaim often, sorting the refuse of others in
order to survive. The women are soft and pretty, and the men are kind and
gentle. One young sweet woman has two children that are off living with their
dirt-poor grandmother. At the end
she is pregnant and has another child. No man in sight. The workers get held up
at a bank and lose $600 of their earnings.
I watch this film and sense
that Vik is who I used to be or might have been and dreamed of being. I look
for clues in his upbringing and foundation of life as a way to excuse myself
for being unable to do this work anymore. Gender matters. It opens doors still
for the male artist.
©Ann
Smith 2012
Saturday
August 11, 2012
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