in watermelon sugar: Dinosaur

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Dinosaur

We went to go visit my friend Tene' in Brooklyn, her son Kamau, has a sever case of dinosaur fever, (though only two and a half he knows the names of nine dinosaurs). Kamau has a stuffed T-Rex that Tene' bought from Urban Outfitters for some astronomical price. The crafter in me always boasts, I could make that, but this time I finally did. Since dinosaur fever is extremely contagious, I made Soley a stuffed Apatosaurus (which only fools still call Brontosaurus) out of felted wool. I hope to make another one to send to Kamau, (but his will have four legs). Please appreciate the fact that this is hand stitched because machine was in the shop getting fixed

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My Name by Richard Brautigan

I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is on your mind.

If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong-"Sorry for the mistake,"- and you had to do something else.

That is my name.

Perhaps it was a game you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.

that is my name.

Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.

that is my name. Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.

That is my name.

Or you hear someone calling from a great distance. Their voice as almost an echo.

That is my name.

Perhaps you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep and you laughed at something, a joke unto yourself, a good way to end the day.

That is my name.

Or you were eating something good and for a second forgot what you were eating, but still went on, knowing it was good.

That is my name.

Perhaps it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell inside the stove.

That is my name.

Or you felt bad when she said that thing to you. She could have told it to someone else: Somebody who was more familiar with her problems.

That is my name. Perhaps the trout swam in the pool but the river was only eight inches wide and the moon shone on iDeath and the watermelon fields glowed out of proportion, dark and the moon seemed to rise from every plant.

That is my name.