Kelly At Large #141 The Return
In which the author shows signs of life.
Hello from Paris,
Everybody has things they don’t want to think about, or not too closely. I asked my grandmother once about the Civil War and where our family stood. I’d expected an earnest discussion about how brother fought brother in the Mason-Dixon line state of Kentucky. Instead I got a funny story about how, when her uncles saw the recruiters from either side coming, they took to their heels and fled. The punchline? That the slowest ended up with a round of buckshot in his butt.
Which is to say, I come by my cowardice honestly, though let’s just call it a healthy desire to survive. It’s why I haven’t written in a year. Couldn’t face it. Couldn’t face anything. Since my partner’s health started falling apart, I’ve had to more and more repress emotions, thoughts, desires. And as for the larger world, outside our apartment, outside our neighborhood, doctors’ offices, hospitals—does it even exit? (Though still, fuck Trump.)
So, that’s that.
At any rate, I thought I’d let you know that while our lives are still very different than before, my brain is slowly moving out of first gear and I’m going to try resuming the substack, if irregularly. I don’t know what I’m going to write about. A little bit of politics. Or my new sideline as an art student in Paris. Being a carer only obliquely. It’s just too much to deal with head on, while art. Art can hurt you too, but at least not in the same place.
The city has a system of fine art workshops and there’s one for drawing and painting two blocks away. I signed up, gritted my teeth and went, hesitant as a first grader on the first day of school, meeting a ton of new people all at once. It’s a challenge being a total novice at something for the first time in years. Decades really. Frustration is exponential. The more you learn the more you want to do but you don’t have the technique, not yet. I see-saw between being totally humiliated and pleased as punch, trying to rejoice every time I make one line that I like, or capture the weight of a body.
Oh, and for long-time readers, I also wanted to tell you how a couple stories ended. First, I did it. The naturalization interview went well and I’m celebrating my first anniversary as a French citizen.
Second, the little book I serialized for you in French (Les Odyssées de Fally Dogswell) and English (The Odysseys of Fally Dogswell) has now been published in both languages by micro-publisher Tetrapod Press. Run to your nearest local bookstore and order a copy. If you want to support me, that would be the most welcome way.
Let me know how you are.
Gratefully yours,
xoxo Kelly