via johndan, i found out about this visualizing time matrix and entered an image. it got accepted (yay) and you can see it, if you go to the site (via the link, above) and then type "kyburz" in the search field. the image? above. and yes, i've posted this image here before; this is my fabulous invention. toilet paper that has a "tear edge" so that you can easily make that fancyresorthotel'ish edge.
relevant to how this image of t.p. "marks time": for me, it's about my diabetes insipidus -- not diabetes mellitus; i have told doctors and nurses before, "i have d.i.," whereupon they start asking how often i check my blood sugar and how much insulin i take (this inspires little confidence). d.i. is not that kind of diabetes. anyhow, d.i. is a hormone deficiency that essentially means that i pee a lot (whenever i say that, i hear Faith No More singing "we care a lot" with my lyrics). so, for me, well, i spend a lot of time in the ladies'. thus, l'image. a tiny victory.
2 comments:
TP as time . . .Yeah, in this house, we could definitely measure it in rolls, but they'd never, ever manage to hang onto their "hotel point" for long.
When I think of time, I think of going through my mother's jewelry box and looking at all of her old wrist watches--the wind-up sort. She had a fairly large collection of non-working watches. I also think of this travel alarm clock she had. Sort of a leather-cased dealie that folded up, then down on three hinges. I liked that time could be folded up into something resembling the kind of box a small and very expensive gift might come in. And I remember that this clock somehow smelled like face powder--the kind in a flat, round compact. Probably, she kept the clock in her makeup case when she travelled. Somehow, from there, I land on this drawer of gloves we kept in the little room off of our kitchen that originally served as a butler's pantry. In that drawer were all sorts of my mom's gloves: long elegant pairs of the sort one wears with sleeveless dresses, white churchy pairs with decorous bows or seams, short sporty pairs with buttons at the wrist or with prim seams where the fist would be, leather pairs for driving. I thought, then, that time--that growing up--might be measured out according to one's wardrobe of gloves. Girls had mittens; pretty and mysterious mothers had those black over the elbow gloves.
I still want a pair of those.
and the gloves were so *tiny* (our mothers' gloves), right?
i love fingerless gloves. not too practical for really wintry days, but i love them just the same.
when i do Sundance, i can't afford to be really dressy, but i always wear a crazy looking pair of fingerless gloves (w/ that foldover "flap" that you can use to cover fingertips) that i got locally. they make the look :)
find your opera gloves! you must ;)
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