This Position Doesn’t Hurt
Sometimes just the conceptual recognition of “partnership” chilled her spine.Achingly exquisite sensations turned her insides out.The pain extended over her anatomy for a long time,always somehow purifying her in its insistence.She tried to abide by the precepts of the New Testament,but found it consistently difficult to turn the other cheek when someone kicked her ass.
And she had always been the student to ask the most probing questions in catechism class.Now,navigating in the real world of urban conflict,she saw no reason to change her way of thinking.It was her innate curiosity about all things that spurred her on.Questions.Questions.Questions.About the day to day life of the American frontier family to William Blake’s interpretation of gnostic writings.She wondered and wondered…and wandered.
She wandered to London,England in 1973 and ended up working in a sex boutique.All day and all of the night listening to the music of the Kinks and the Ronettes.Cultivating a shabby Mohawk hairdo.She found her niche with musicians and haberdashers.
One day,feeling more desultory then usual she boarded one of those double decker buses that drove downtown.She was in that frame of mind that she seldom found herself in since she had come to Europe.It was what she termed an”Akron” frame of mind.It meant escaping the mundane.It meant a very personal sleight of hand (head) that would revamp not just the way that she looked at herself, not just her self image.It a was psycho/sexual device for self revelation that she had stumbled upon in her youth.Nobody ever taught it to her.No guru,no text.
And that frame of mind was not just about changing her point of view.Her personal perspective long ago transcended all conceptions of elasticity.She felt euphoria in her lungs then,but London ash was still there too.Yet she felt invigorated and revived in a manner that was impossible to describe.And who to describe it to? And really, why even bother? This was her sojourn and her sojourn alone.No stowaways on this float trip.Rilke’s words reverberated in her noggin,”The only journey is the one within.”