Anais is here


I find myself in a new place
and perhaps a new space
within
I haven't moved very far...technically
3 suburbs south from where i was before
this is a temporary housemind
though isn't everything temporary...?
i feel like i've moved 100 miles away
it's a lot quieter here
cleaner
I feel good
that life is good
i don't have anything to complain about
i feel a little caccooned and protected
at 38
i'm 10 years younger than i was 10 years ago
as winter settles in
my instinct is to hibernate
and glower in my own warmth
i am alone
gloriously alone in fact
i have no love interest
except that
i've started reading the diaries of Anais Nin
a french writer who is possibly best well known for her erotic stories
i read these stories over half a lifetime ago
at a far more impressionable age
but even then i was struck by her suppleness
and poetic softness of tone
'pillowy' you might say
i recall how she referenced all genetalia
men's and women's
with the word sex
her sex his sex ectetera
it was all very deft and effective
...and affective
i think this is delta of venus and other stories
that i hope to revisit soon
in print
and in the flesh....
because you see
i think i'm falling for Anais Nin
I love her written expression
she's very vivid and florid with her phrasing
yet she's also supple and exotic
as an observer she's seemingly, precisely intuitive
as she articulates the emotionality and complexities of the people around her
this is matched with her evocative imagination
and poetic sensibility
for example her intense friendship with June Miller
that as yet has not melted into an affair
(as far as my reading has led me to)
is brimming with erotic tension
with barely anymore than clandestine suggestion
of sexual attraction between the two women
it's through power of Anais's gift (or gifts)
that she conveys this relationship with such passioned sensuality

during the last few days
as i've been walking around the uni campus
i've been on the lookout for Anais Nin
or at least a doppleganger of Her
In her diaries it seemed Anais was content to roam around her (dad's?) house
in the lovely village of Louveciennes near Paris
with its castle and cobblestone streets
built on a hill overlooking the Seine
Up until last week i could be seen roaming Queens Park
in the eastern suburbs of a big Australian city
for an evening or morning stroll
i would have to dodge the many instant pitches
covered over by touch-footy comps
and i notice women playing touch footy too
along with the boyz
i hate touch-footy
could you imagine Anais Nin playing touch footy??
i mean.....come on !
i don't date chicks that play touch
i haven't touched a footy
since september 1996
when it nearly snapped my finger off
and to this moment i still feel a soft pain within that 3rd finger
on my right hand
but it's ok
i'm not being sexist in saying what i just sed y'know
because i'm not interested in guys as friends
who are into that whole lifestyle either - at all
can you imagine Peter Steve & Marty from the church playing touch???
they're my kinda fellas...
Anais Nin as a body is long gone
she died the same year Elvis Presley died
but the spirit of Woman
so alive in that incandescent wonderful woman called A. Nin
is always here
it's just sometimes harder to find as we approach 2009 onwards
touch footy certainly dulls the Spirit

Anais seems to take great pleasure and satisfaction
in imprinting every moment with great feeling and depth
or, seeing or feeling that depth in every moment
without the aid of drugs, she's keen to admit
i relate to that
i'm incredibly self-contained
every moment is full and real
and i love being a part of Life
i felt a sadness for a moment
when i wikipedia'd June and Henry Miller
(Anais' prime co-stars in her diaries)
June - the mercurial fanciful utterly impulsive and reckless wife of
Henry - author sardonic and savagely realist writer intensive
they all died close together
all in their seventies
June in 1979, 2 years after Anais
and Henry 1980, the same year of Peter Sellar's death
and that of John Winston Ono Lennon's
I realised these 3 were a tribe
almost meant to be together forever
and it made me sad to think
that all the passion, mood, utter sensuality, everything
so well conveyed by Anais in her diaries
die with those who've lived it
and conveyed it
and here we are now
a new batch of people
destined to die
along with everything we are or have been
our diaries will become historical too
And yet the spiritualists say...
that all these objectified people
...they may be long dead
are not dead at all
they are Life
in this body!
writing these words!
and reading these words!!!
Whoa!!!!!
All is One One is All (????)
...this means that all life is contained in the observer
that which is Life....I...the writer and reader of these words
as there is only one I in the universe
only one person each of us calls I
therefore "I" am Life
and with that i suppose
we are all connected
I love you Anais
and God bless you.

Comments

Lian said…
Ross..., thanks for a nice book review. I think I'll like it too.

Write on; I'm your reader.

best regards.
veleska1970 said…
this is very beautiful, ross. your love of life is contagious.

i'm your new reader, too. :)

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