Eye of the Needle

I remember hearing once, through some obscure source, that one origin for the phrase "passing a camel through the eye of the needle" had to do with an old custom of collecting tariffs, in which merchants paid taxes on the number of camels laden with goods that they brought into the city, and that the load per beast was limited in size by two poles that the camel - and the load - had to pass cleanly between.

I'm scheduled to pack The Garage this next few evenings, starting with this one. I'm going to avoid it, for the sake of high art, for at least 20 minutes and one glass of wine, while I type this few paragraphs and do my part to keep this forum one of the most active in LUSENET.

Arriving at my decision to take the less encumbered path at this latest crossroads in my journey has been a liberating one for me. I feel like I'm shedding clothes - well, loosening my scarf anyway - at the entry to an oasis. I almost shudder to think what I'm going to be like when I get close enough to smell the water.

The Garage is a story similar to that of The Books. I already alluded to that extra roll of

Romex. I didn't mention my oxy-acytelene torch (don't get any ideas, because I can't even turn the thing on - it was one of those parental leftovers, but I was at least willing to take it on), or the fact that I've been an erstwhile herbalist and tend to make witchy brews and potions from things I gather in the woods (hence, jars and vessels and presses...), or that I like tinkering with electronics.

When I look at the things, one by one, and weigh them, and measure them, and find them wanting (to stay), my most useful question is "would I buy a plane ticket for this thing to go with me to Venice?" followed by "Am I willing to buy it a hotel room for a year in the StoreAll?". The most oft-heard phrase in my mind is "But someday I could..." Boy, is that ever a clue to hit the box!

I found a lot of what I have by sheer luck and serendipity. Or rather, what I have has easily found me. I think it's a good thing to imagine that someone else is going to come across these various tools and have the same pleasures of discovery and utility that I've had. I like that.

Alright. 20 minutes are closing in. I've just had word that I acquired my studio, so it's writ in stone now. 400 square feet is calling me (and not much else!). Focus is just around the corner.

You know, I just realized that if you are actually reading these, you probably think I'm an absolute nut case by now, talking to you and the spirits in the air - me and all my little multi-dimensional, poly-faced, lively imaginary friends - as if you're there, or here, or wherever it is that we, singly and together, can be said to be.

Oh well, you'd have found out sooner or later.

I wonder if you have a garage.

love, still, for some odd reaso

-- Anonymous, October 18, 2001