her life is a paradox part two

…Like Totally is totally perplexed,

“Why working by commissions feels so shallow?”

In response she hears laughter, but ignores it and persists,

“Why pleasing others feels like if arriving to predetermined answers?”

The laughter stops, “Because for pleasing others, you turn away from me,”

the muse replies.

“But who believes in muses? “exclaims Like Totally who feels like

 now it is her turn to laugh.

“Why do you think that pleasing others feels so shallow?” the muse demands.

“Because I feel that it is not myself but others who influence my painting.”

“And how do you feel when nobody cares for what you paint?”

“I feel alone and to beat aloneness I paint intuitively finding answers…”

“And those answers you intuitively find belong to you?”

“You puzzle me.  If answers I intuitively find do not belong to me,

then whose are they?”

“They are mine, and if you turn away from me,

your answers will become what others want from you.”

“You sound crazy! Following your logic do I exist at all?”

In response she hears laughter…

her life is a paradox part one

Like Totally spends all day painting a painting. A friend of a friend wants to hang Like Totally’s painting in her beach house. The idea that a friend of a friend wants her painting in the house is satisfying, but satisfying her taste tastes bad in Like Totally’s mouth. Like Totally raises her brows, “What a funny idea,” she thinks, “ I usually hate that no one likes my paintings, but today I despise painting for someone to like!” Like Totally's brows jump even higher, “My life is a paradox,” she concludes.

the field where anything can grow

The field of art remind Like Totally a field where anything can grow,
whereas the field of science accords with rules of science.
It is the field, nevertheless, where weeding never totally succeeds
and scientists rechristen old macabre
 --naming mystical experience 'ecstatic epilepsy'
 and loss of soul 'Cotard's syndrome'--

Like Totally revere science
but faced today with artist who aspires
to use technology to recreate fantastic images of science
she feels betrayed.

What if the chosen ones who have received the call to frequent it
instead forsake the field where anything can grow? 

a frame

“Like Totally, why your art is not in the art shows?”

“Because it is not framed.”

“And that’s all? “

“Yes, commercial galleries accept only framed art.”

“How about institutional shows?”

“Because I cannot frame it.”

“Don’t they show all kinds of art, even unframed?”

“Yes, but to get accepted to an institutional show an artist has to be framed.”

totally like her

Be totally like her to realize what does it mean to be Like Totally!

Although she doesn’t have a chance to be like everybody else, 

she still must struggle to be herself.    

chipmunk's sense of danger

Like Totally notices a chipmunk   

who leaves a cover of giant hosta leaves and pauses at her sight.

Fourth of July Two Thousand Fifteen is cloudy with prophesy of rain.

Her absent mind is pausing at the chipmunk.

The chipmunk's still; she stirs a little,

but the chipmunk merely continues watching her.

Now she is still, but chipmunk frights under the hosta plant. 

Like Totally is totally perplexed:

What is the length of waiting for a chipmunk?

Is it the length time, like she believes it is,

or chipmunk’s sense of danger? 

Like Totally walks upstairs to look for something.

It must have been last Independence Day

that her son's asked her to repair three pairs of shorts.

She finds them in the bedroom on the chair

and sews the buttons on.     

black square

Do you notice how your mother ages gracefully u-turning

love once pointedly directed at you towards herself?

Like Totally is utterly confused: what happens to the memories she shares

with the woman who meekly edges across the kitchen table?

Committed to the honesty, Like Totally refuses

to separate the memories she’s fond of from those she dislikes

arbitrary denying the sameness of the person to the mother 

across the kitchen table and the other she thinks she knows.

In fact, we never know the whole person until she dies 

and finally unveils herself before our eyes, 

Like Totally proceeds, but by that time

our eyes loose sharpness and our memory declines.

If I insist on honesty, she continues, I honestly admit 

to never know the person I call my mother.

Like Totally dishearten slightly lights cigarette she finds most likely

next to her cup. 

I wonder, she sighs, I wonder...

 because the same must stand for me. 

I cannot know myself until I die, but by that time…

Remember Kazimir Malevich?  

 The motherfucker after all is right:

The Black Square is an ultimate icona of a person and his or her reflection,

God.