From: “master rebel prince” Add to Address Book
To: memorabilia23 yahoo.com
Subject: life coats
Date: Fri, 03 May 2002 20:59:52 -0700
life coats
coats have always been important to me
and perhaps because i like being warm
and easily get cold
and like to be outside
when i am inside i like to be naked
so it’s heaters
or insulation
in a city
the coat i wear has to fulfil two additional functions:
to present myself as i wish to be seen
and to carry what i may need in the immesurable potential of
interactions.
in the country
the coat only has to keep me warm
which leaves much more luxurys for how it feels on me
how it keeps me warm/ how it vents
i was noticing this tonight
because my wrists hurt from holding my hands in the pockets of my pants
or
my leather jacket.
my leather jacket keeps me warm
but is too short
i am used to long coats
as well as it being very tight
form fitting
where as i am used to baggy spacious things
and have certainly been appreciating the girth in the arms for my hands
to
slip over eachother
as in wearing the dell
which, of course
i got experience in out in mongolia
and on top of Leo’s hill
i greatly prefer this
together relaxation
support and warmth building
continous channel flow circulation
so i walked through the city tonight with my hands hanging limp at my
side
neither pockets feeling comfortable
and i don’t really like gloves
because then i can’t play with my balls
or touch anything with accuacy
which brings me to finger juggling
my fingers can touch everything
there are primarily two ways of touching
active and passive
that is
to feel something,
read it, like brail or face or any such texture
or to impress it
manipulate it
sculpt it
then, of course, there is the dance of these two
like a potter uses
flowing with life
the fingers feel the turning of the wheel in the soft clay
and through this perception
know how much to press
to sculpt
everything can be touched
thoughts, of course, are my specialty
but that is how my mind works
through my hands
fingers like mind
fingers like mouth
— i should have one of these beautiful quiet boys teach me to talk
with
fingers
[uh]
i could teach myself for them
-where is the love?-
anyway
everything can be juggled
held
felt
controled
manaouvered
-whatever i imagine
over time, of course
i build blinders
and “forget” this
i once described it to a friend [named “aaron” for those who know]
as if writing:
very bluntly, big tools held in the hand, like a shovel or a hammer..
bigger things of life
varying down
like writing with a pen, more fine
or more delineated: typing on a keyboard [or playing piano]
yet life can get infintely detailed, depending on how much energy you
have
how much attention you pay to it
how much you love it enough to caress that aspect of it
and they piano you’re typing on could have a billion keys +
so, also, you could have a billion fingers
many sets
some very very very tiny
some large, fat
all sizes needed
to make the play smooth
believeable
comfortable
livable
progressive
satisfying
well
we are often all much better at feeling our sway over breathing
than consciously controlling our hearts
but there are times…
Rebel Prince
-by rufus wainwright-
Where is my master the rebel prince
Who will shut all of these windows
It’s these windows all around me
It’s these windows who are telling me
To rid my dirty mind of all of its preciousness
Where is my master the rebel prince
Bet breaking everything trying to get to me
In this two-bit hotel
Just to me before this windowsill
Does rid my dirty mind of all of its preciousness
Oh I can see him now
Though it’s so far away
Amongst the roving crowd
Going the other way
Confounded anger burning with love for me
Oÿ est mon maätre le prince rebelle
Qui va fermer toutes ces fenÆtres
Ce sont ces fenÆtres autour de moi
Ce sont ces fenÆtres qui m’appellent,
Qui m’appellent
Marigold, Marigold, Marigold
I’m leaving the Roosevelt hotel
Marigold, Marigold, Marigold
I’m leaving the room we knew so well
Marigold, Marigold, Marigold
Marigold, Marigold, Marigold
Marigold, Marigold, Marigold
Marigold, Marigold, Marigold
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