Hanging, perching, ending & revealing

Sodom and Gomorrah had pillars of salt left in their wake. Lake Washington has my shadow trapped within a pillar of rock more-or-less within its wake. Unless something sort of unique or unusual happens in the next few days (weeks ??), this will be my last photograph for a while. It seems appropriate. A shadow, I mean, more than faceless as I have been on the sea of blogs, and, now, only a silhouette left by the sun upon a stone pillar on the porch of the Lake House. Even on days without the sun and in times long after I have departed this place, I like to think my shadow will remain here until the stone pillar has crumbled into dust. We all become part of every place we have been and of every person we have met.

Odin & Christ & hanging around

The poem from which a pair of stanzas were posted yesterday is from Old Norse mythology (or Old Norse religion, if you prefer), with these particular lines describing how Odin, the chief god of the stone-age Germanic culture (Odin = Wodan or Wotan) -- which spread into what today is Scandinavia and from which these stories evolved -- hung from a tree for nine days.

In this lore, unlike Jesus Christ, who was hung from a cross to ensure the possibility of salvation and life everlasting for mankind, Odin hung from the tree as the price required to gain wisdom. Both these two men/gods, apparently, were there by personal choice. Personal choice = free will (or not).

An interesting comparison of cultural thought and values, it seems to me.

Thinking about a place to perch

The title of yesterday's post, you might recall, was "Just hanging out here & there." As I have mentioned in the past, this Lake House is my fifth place of residence during the nine months of 2010 which have so far come and gone, and next month there will be still another one. I could extend my stay here, in this Lake House, but that is unlikely. I have no reason to do so.

During the next week or two, I have a few decisions to make. For that reason, I will not be here as often as I have the last few months. This does not mean I will disappear, but that I want to detach myself a bit and return to the real world to concentrate on the immediate future.

I still have this crazy idea that I would like to "hole up" for a year with a companion and spend most of my time writing and talking and reading and watching the clouds fly by overhead. But, sometimes things do not turn out to be as uncomplicated as you expect them to happen. A bit of stability in my life would be nice to experience again for at least a few months. I think I could use a place to perch a while.

Some stories never have an ending

A number of years ago, a rather well-known Midwestern novelist had me send the first draft of a novel I had written to his New York agent. "Tell her I said to put it on my tab," he told me.

I sent the manuscript. When it returned, the agent had written that while my writing was quite good, the story lacked an adequate ending and needed work in that regard before she would consider trying to find a publisher for it.

"Every story must have a beginning, a middle and an end," she wrote to me. "Your story has no ending."

"Neither will the story of my life," I wrote her back.

But, I also thanked her, continued to correspond with the Midwestern novelist until his mind left him and put my own story into a box. It has never left the box, so I guess it never will have an ending, either.

I probably should not, but I will anyway

I probably should not mention this, but, I will. I received an email from my ex-second wife (or, should that be second ex-wife) today. She wrote and asked me (facetiously, jokingly, laughingly) why I had not told her a film had been made about my life.

She went on to explain that a new movie -- "RED" -- was being released next week. RED = retired extremely dangerous. Ah, yes, those were the days, my friend, we thought they would never end .... whoops. There I go trying to sing again.

It might surprise you to know my ex-second-wife or second-ex-wife, whichever you prefer, and I get along very well. Actually, we did everything well together except live well together inside the same house. Now that we are no longer married, I actually like her and she likes me. But, love is a very, very, very separate question.

I guess that means I am pretty good at being an "ex." Life is strange. So, then, please "ex"-cuse me while I comtemplate hanging from a tree as I try to write an ending to my story and look for a place to perch with someone other than my ex-ex.

Whatever, no more games, anyone, everyone. Shadows do not last forever unless captured in stone pillars. Say goodbye or get serious ....