Vilhelm Hammershøi,
What do you do
when all you know
when all you’ve been told
in every word, every touch, every look
you have gotten
is how good for nothing you are?
Fight? Scream? Prove the world wrong?
I am struggling with that
in my head.
I never look up anymore.
I think that when I die
my tombstone
will be
blank.
I know I should be growing my blog and promoting it more,
but all I want to do is write.
Grrrrr. Do I have to do both?
I am reading a collection of ghost stories by Henry James.
So far everyone has dropped dead after being confronted by ghosts.
Good thing that doesn’t happen in real life
or
I would have died
a long time ago.
Seriously though.
My favorite story in this collection is called ” The Last Of Valerii ”
This story is about a woman named Martha who marries a Count and moves to Italy where she takes up excavating the grounds of her new home- a somewhat neglected Villa for antiquities.
After a short spell, Martha excavators disinter a statue of Juno that enchants her husband.
In one my favorite and the most horrifying part of the story, Martha’s husband takes the statues severed hand ( though I imagined the statue visited him and gave it to him herself- which is creepy visual because what did that involve? ) from the excavation sight.
At the end of the story you are lead to believe that the spell is finally broken but the Count keeps the hand- and treasures it and proudly shows it to the curious.
There are no ghosts in this story exactly, but the Count is haunted so completely that you would think an entire cemetery full of ghost are on his heels.
I’m sure everyone who reads this story will have their own takeaway of the ending- but that is what makes a story about ghosts truly haunting.
I used to go to cool places
like
museums and to the symphony and book signings
I used to drive miles and miles
for gelato or fun
or just because.
Just because-
are the sweetest words
in the world.
It’s been ages
since I’ve tasted them
on my tongue.