I see your eyes drifting, drifting
I’m really not that naive…
You wear a smile,
but it’s drifting, drifting
while I wear my heart on my sleeve
I feel your coldness against my skin
—Drifting by Harry Connick Jr.
I know what follows the autumn wind
and though you say your heart
isn’t drifting, drifting
the words simply don’t ring true.
You’re drifting, and I’m losing you
You and I haven’t talked in the Shop this summer as much as I would have liked. I’ve been terribly busy with other duties, and I hope you understand. But here are some things that have been happening that I thought I would share with you.
Mercuriosity Shop roustabout Gryffin has really gotten feverish in this political climate. The impending election has really set him off. He and I are constantly discussing the state of affairs in the world as seen through the lens of 24 hour cable news. I admit I’m beginning to find the entire current political idiocy quite tiresome, and listening to the views of a man who makes molotov cocktails with a wedge of lime, while entertaining, is often equally as dodgy.
On a positive note, a new soul—one Harrison Paul—made his debut into the world this year. His mother is a dear friend, and was one of my favorite nymphs to lay chase to during our younger days in the Vale of Paradise. She has started anew, and I wish the best for her, and her husband, and her newborn son. (Aside from the curly hair, he really doesn’t resemble me at all. Truly!)
The beautiful Sara: actor, model, friend—whom I have implored to take up residence in my Columbary of Muses many times (and an offer she has declined many times)—is also starting a new life. She was married in Las Vegas just this week! She has a heart big enough to fit the world, and I extend my best wishes to her and to her very fortunate husband.
Due to a bit of bizarre and seemingly endless reconstruction of the aquaducts, the usual place some of us ne’er-do-wells meet for coffee on Friday mornings is no longer open. So our band of card cheats, hipster/shamans, anarchists, screenprinters and yours truly will need to find a new location to hatch plans of subversive artistic hoo-ha.
The summer will be gone soon, along with the boons of light and warmth. Life will retreat, and neighbors will remain in hiding like so many squirrels in a hollow. Full trees become bundles of bones. Green fields become frozen barrens. The sky covers itself in a blanket of gray wool. And for the final inevitable news, again this year the Mercuriosity Shop will be closed for the month of September.
So wait for me as the shadows stretch across the darkening lawn, slouching toward Autumn. I’ll see you all back at the Shop in October.