Music for Small Arms
I read a post today by Laurie Stone who writes Everything Is Personal.
I highly recommend her writing,
I wonder if I have time for reading, when I should be writing, or working, or working at writing.
I read your piece today, and I feel less guilty about reading.
I love your relationship with words.
I have a relationship with words.
I think words may be cheating on both of us.
I have the sense that words is not just cheating, but enjoying our conflicted emotions.
I am having my first chemo and radiation treatment today.
I never thought I would have cancer, but there you have it. Note to Mick Jagger: Sometimes you don’t get what you want.
I had a Mother. She is gone now. She had dementia for many years.
I wonder what went in in her mind, especially toward the end, but also at the middle and at the beginning. She said many times that she never wanted to get cancer, because she had such a tiny head. She was afraid she would never find the right wig to fit her tiny head.
I have 35 days of treatments coming up. Today is day one.
I was told that the cancer would all be gone after the treatments.
I believe everything you say when it is good news.
I am sceptical about all bad news.
I think artificial intelligence is not as dangerous as ignorance.
I had two seven minute eggs this morning when I normally have one.
I can’t remember if eating eggs is good or bad.
I remember the days I had a heart attack, like it was yesterday, even though it was sixteen years ago.
I will call a friend today that I have not spoken with for a long time. Our relationship is complicated. He once told me that he didn’t have time for my “ half songs”. Yesterday, we recorded five of my half songs. They are now almost complete songs. Once you hear them, they will be complete.
I have many things that I still want to do.
I have more books that I haven’t read, than books that I have read. Autocorrect writes the best jokes. Autocorrect though I meant pjs when I said books. What does autocorrect know that I don’t know.
I have my own Substack called THIS IS NOT MUSIC! Densemilt.substack.com
I have been writing for years, and making music. Recently I have been writing about Lump, and my journey in Cancerland. It is a comedy and a drama. I look forward to looking back on it fondly.
I know that ending a sentence with an adverb is wrong, but there are so many other things that are more wrong in this world.
I think Everything Is Personal.
Much love to all my friends and readers.
Your mentioning of Laurie Stone’s writing immediately flicked on a lightbulb of why I have so loved your writing. You both share the gift for getting to the gooey center from directions both familiar and brand new. I don’t know either of you personally, but through your newsletters I feel a deep connection that transcends the physical.
So many lines in this piece resonate. I wish I could highlight them all. Especially the lines about your mother’s dementia. Dealing with that situation currently with both my father and aunt.
But for some reason “I can’t remember if eating eggs is good or bad” is standing out the most for me. Trying to determine whether knowing why matters.
Of course your comment on the validity of eggs reminds me of the Woody Allen joke from Annie Hall. “ It reminds me of that old joke- you know, a guy walks into a psychiatrist's office and says, hey doc, my brother's crazy! He thinks he's a chicken. Then the doc says, why don't you turn him in? Then the guy says, I would but I need the eggs. I guess that's how I feel about relationships. They're totally crazy, irrational, and absurd, but we keep going through it because we need the eggs.”
My Father loved eggs. Of course he died of congestive heart failure, so his recommendations only carry so much weight.
I’m so glad you are reading my posts.