Haiku Hiatus. Saturday. September 2. 2023.

 

 

Haiku hiatus. Saturday. September 2. 2023.

I have been unstable all my life. My artistic sensibilities kicked in at a young age. These sensibilities were not understood by my parents or even by me. So I was labeled “moody,” “thin-skinned,” and “unfocused.” I grew up feeling guilty about my inability to find much interest or make much of a commitment to anything outside of performing and writing. I have always needed a public. After I joined the Church, I scolded myself as “selfish” and “self-centered” when the lack of artistic outlets left me stifled and ill-tempered.
And, let’s face it, I AM self-centered and selfish – my need to express myself either as a performer or a writer overwhelms most other considerations in my life. I’m difficult to live with and unsympathetic to the needs of others when I’m caught up in my art – whether it is creating a new clown gag or organizing a limerick or haiku.

This past week has proved to be a watershed in self-realization because I finally gave up on the idea of being only a poet so I could blossom into what I truly am and will indeed be for the rest of my mortal life: a Performance Artist.

Let’s back up a bit. Last Monday, I promised Amy that we would go to the Temple four times a week for endowment sessions. She has wanted this for years, but I have not been enthusiastic about it. I don’t really “get” the Temple ceremonies and symbolism. What generally happens is I feel a genuine lift in my spirits and nothing more. And with my bad knees and back, it’s always been more a test of endurance than an act of faith and worship.
So we went to the 6 a.m. session at the Provo City Center Temple four days in a row. And I was feeling more and more miserable. Because there was less time to get out with my haiku sign and because I felt exhausted and ill from fasting until noon each day, I had to forgo food, water, and my medications, or else I would have had an accident. Or so I thought.

BTW:  I have to go to the earliest morning session because, by noon, I am entirely done both physically and mentally.

Then, on Thursday, while at the Temple, I was hit with a thought so forceful it nearly toppled me out of my seat.
Relax and take it easy as part of this thought. You have never been just a poet but are a performance artist, was the other part.
A great deal of pressure and misery immediately left me.
The Temple session became much more peaceful and enjoyable for me. And I formed an idea of what I would do when we were home, and I was on my way to Hruska’s Kolaches.
I would take a blank piece of cardboard to display. See how people reacted.
I got two dollars in my can and no kolaches. Each dollar bill was deposited by a kind person who wished me good luck . . . and who apparently never realized I was holding up a piece of blank cardboard.
Two other people stopped to read my sign, realized there was no sign, and asked me what it meant.
I told them both: “It means nothing, and it means everything.”
Both passersby rubbed their chins sagely and seemed to say to themselves, “Yes, that is very profound – very profound indeed!”

And now, other ideas flood my mind in the Temple. I’ll wrap myself up in newspapers, and when people stop to gawp, I’ll tell them, “I get wrapped up in the news.”
I’ll have a sign that reads “AVOID MIND CONTROL. Get your tin foil hats here!” And I’ll be wearing a tin foil hat.

I’ll hold up one of the many colorful circus posters at home just to see what people will do. What they will ask. How much money, if any, they’ll give me.

Yes, the Temple has become a fruitful place for my imagination. Sometimes, I ponder a new performance art routine, and sometimes, I am struck by something in the ceremony that puts me in a deep ponder about how our world was organized and the role Adam & Eve played in it all, etc. My wit is quickened while attending the Temple, and my eyes see more.

Pray for me, gentle reader, that I do not relapse into a guilt-ridden, fasting fanatic!

Today, Saturday, I only spent an hour and a half at the kolache place. Because it began to rain, Amy and I had a granddaughter’s baptism to go to. So, I did a haiku:

A lot of brown shoes
Passing on the wet pavement –
Avoiding the cracks.

And I managed to make enough money to buy Amy a large bouquet of flowers at Fresh Market.

My total earnings for the week were $80.00. Plus, I got a used $50.00 Visa gift card with nine dollars left on it.
I can hardly wait until Monday to get out there again!
It’s time for a bagel with cream cheese and then binge-watch The Blacklist with Amy.