Underthecurrent


points of reference
May 25, 2009, 1:39 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.
marge piercy, to be of use

I have to leave for work in 50 minutes. So far I have made oatmeal and showered.

This weekend I was out with a bunch of people I graduated with. I looked around. This year has aged people in a way school never did. The money’s not great and the thanks are few. Someone at the office shows me facial hair loss, crop circle patterns, resulting from stress.

Yesterday I was cleaning and packing [life theme]. I pulled out an album and handed it to E.Nov.

“I don’t remember you wearing those gloves to graduation,” he said.

“That’s because it was my graduation from high school.”

Inside there were also pictures from when I was fifteen. I more or less look the same but gave up the Dawson’s Creek unflattering jeans about half a decade ago.

One of my best friends from school, newly divorced, is quitting his big corporate gig and moving to T.O., likely to live with my other best friend from school who is moving there for work. They’ll do at least one year, his sights are set on NYC I think.

I really like the work. Because now the point is coming where I will choose to stay or go. There are no contracts anymore, no binding commitments. I really like the work but I don’t want to be old before my time for the sake of something fairly irrelevant. Finding a place to work will be difficult because this is an unfortunately novel sentiment. And, because for me the work is about craft rather than ego. I want to stay away from the ego portion, from having something to prove, from measuring and pissing contests.

I ask for letters of reference. Preparation for something I don’t really know about yet.

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