Lowry and I

Lowry is a stubborn one, I can tell you that much. Argumentative, bossy and demanding it seems I seldom live up to her expectations. Always wanting, expecting, pushing for more I often find myself exhausted trying to keep up with her. I suppose such is life when one befriends a cynical perfectionist.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm not being disparaging, I do not dislike Lowry. On the contrary I find her company quite splendid! She is my most cherished of friends. Her sense of humor never fails to make me chuckle and certainly there is no lack of amusement in her presence. Always roaming around on random adventures, we have shared the most exhilarating of experiences. Life with her is rarely dull, always there is some new tangent to be off on, some great creative endeavor to pursue. She is compassionate and understanding, a kind and brilliant friend when she chooses.

"When she chooses" is the catch-phrase there. An isolationist, often she will disappear for days at a time, telling only me where she is going and how to contact her. She leaves the weight of responsibility on my shoulders to pay her bills, clean her house, care for her pets. I answer her email, open her correspondence, even talk to her partner and parents to assure them that all is well. Meanwhile she is off "finding herself" on some desert cliff or crumbling mountainside; or even worse, locked up in her studio creating art like some sort of mad woman.

Last night I met up with Lowry in a bar. She was rambling on about reality and fantasy. I was having trouble keeping pace with her racing thoughts and half-formed, half-assed ideas. She fully lost me when she began going on about alternate truths and historical manipulation. Politely I nodded my head and played the attentive listener, downed a few jacks on the rocks and thought fondly of my bed at home. I told her I was leaving - headed back to get some sleep. Bullheadedly, she refused to let me go, demanding I accompany her to her studio to work. Cursing under my breath I slapped down enough to cash to cover our tab and trudged out after her.

Yes, I trudged after her. Someone needs to keep an eye on her. Without me she would be wallowing in a ditch somewhere, living under a bridge in Portland (which is where I found her last time we split paths). I suppose you could say I have a love/hate relationship with her. She is my dearest friend yet my most cursed enemy. She tells me I'm not serious enough, too happy-go lucky...I tell her she is too somber and needs to be more optimistic. All in all, it seems we balance each other out; two incompletes making one whole. Or some sort of holistic, feel-good rubbish like that. Well, off to bed for me...that is if Lowry is finished in her studio yet...

Exercise in Style - Scesis Onomaton

Damn, cripes, confound-it, the midday bus was busy! The noon public transport was crowded, jam-packed, full of commuters. Luckily I found an empty seat and with a sigh, gasp, exhale of relief sat down hoping to get a quick nap, catch a few zzz's, grab a couple minutes of shut eye between classes. I tried to block out the commotion, bustle, noise in the vehicle. To my great vexation an annoying young man woke me from my slumber, the lad roused me from my rest. An odd college-aged fellow, he had a long, lithe, thin, skinny neck and was wearing a foolishly inane hat, was sporting a headpiece that had some sort of braided, plaited, intertwined cord. He was causing a scene, making a fuss, throwing a tantrum, accusing a young pregnant passenger of needlessly bumping, elbowing, shoving, bulldozing her way down the aisle. In a childish huff, fit, tizzy, tantrum, the young man flung himself into the nearest empty seat, hurled himself on the the closest available bench, heaved himself down beside me. Unfortunately, regretfully, lamentably adjacent to me.

The same afternoon, directly after class, a mere two hours later, 120 minutes further into my day, who did I see but this same juvenile nuisance? The exact sophomoric pest, lounging idly about, kicked back lethargically by the law building stairs. He was speaking with a professor, conversing with faculty, talking with an instructor who seemed to be commenting in regards to the young man's jacket. The educator was explaining the benefit of adding a button to his parka, stitching an additional fastener to the coat. The young man noticed me and enthusiastically waved, saw me and vehemently beckoned, gesticulated wildly, urging me in his direction. Feigning bewilderment, faking obliviousness, acting as if I hadn't noticed, I scuttled off in the opposite direction, moved rapidly towards the other end of the building, wasted no time in getting myself out of there as quickly as possible. Pronto, chop chop, lickety-split.