El Camino Real part 1

Dear but ().() tub et al, 

Sorry for having been so absent for this past week’s meetings–thank you to everyone for your ideas.  

Robert Beavers and I decided to walk Ghost Island’s oldest road.  It leads southeast.  A canard lit atop Queneau’s grave and cooed at us as it opened onto a terrain of Alpine lillies (Linnea borealis, with orange cups that bloom downward on the leaves like the northern light, and the linaria vulgaris, the “toadflax” or “butter and eggs”, whose disorderly petals move in all directions and yellow stamens aspire heavenwards). The linaria vulgaris was the symbol of last century’s peasant revolts on Ghost Island and could be seen pinned atop the right ears of men and women as they rose up.  

That was before the elephants disappeared and the peasants’ disorder was extinguished, just like the Song uprisings in China in the 10th.  To erase history, the ghost island nobility pulled every Linnea Vulgaris from the ground and set them ablaze on the Western shore–and in a moment of bloodlust, set the port on fire, too, to prove that History will stand still. 

Yet, here they were.  Rising up with hidden, vulgar, yellow aspiration.  The “butter and eggs” lillies–the food of the poor and the revolution.  

Robert quoted Bob Rauschenberg when he saw them, “Is it true that anything can change, can be seen in any light, and is not destroyed by the action of shadows?”   

I’ll write more from the Camino Real, soon. 


April May June


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January 2009
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