My street, sometime after dark

it's interesting to test your capabilities for a while

Stayed at the beach too long, the excitement of discovering the long curved spine of a dog fish too much, a walk through town and up the hill in the dark too much too for short, tired legs. Dusk over the sea as the light goes, then dark by the time we’re at the edges of the park. Thick blanket dark, a night without light pollution, a night without cloud. Stars punctuate the near darkness. Recall a similar night at the beginning of autumn a month previous at book festival, hastily making the 9 hour journey from London to Dumfries, early morning after a birthday party, that last Old Fashioned a bad idea, old enough now for whisky to rarely ever be a good idea; two trains, a taxi, no time for a shower or for dinner, quick change, on stage, don’t look at the 300+ strong audience for fear of choking, forget to introduce myself, they are not there for me, a conversation, then later, a pop up bar with friends, and then the skies, so dark they’re protected. Imagine only just thinking to protect the skies. A night so beautiful it etches itself on your memory, you hope forever, but you know the way memory works, how it slips and erodes, a memory recalled now by this night’s darkness. Stars and planets. Venus still, just. Breathe out, see it white on the air. Around the streetlamps first halos of haar. So long missed, this mist rolling in and up and the hard salt smell of it. How long I denied myself this. This one thing I need more than anything else I wanted. The sea. Think of Jenny Holzer, think of if she ever means anything she says, think of her piece someone stole the lines to once and I fell in love with him thinking him profound and not just a filthy plagiarist as I later learnt when better read, aware of art in ways I previously was not, you should limit the amount of times you act against your nature, like sleeping with people you hate. It’s interesting to test your capabilities for a while but too much will cause damage. Think of how long I acted against my nature for, think of the damage it caused, think of Louise Bourgeois as if I am not always thinking of Louise Bourgeois, think of I Do, I Undo, I Redo, of the acquiescing of I do, the chaos of the undo, the repair of the redo; wonder which part this is.