Notebook Undated Late c. 2002 - 2006

Date: 2006
1932. 1
I was born.

1933. 2
I found there was a twin brother.

1934. 3
I found there was an older sister.

1935. 4
I say to my twin brother, “Watch this!” My twin says to me “Watch this.”

1936. 5
My older sister told me that I was a boy and we buried my doll.

1937. 6
My teacher said that of course we do not know when we are to die. I always knew that I would die at age 82. We all know when we are to die.

1938. 7 I don’t believe arithmetic and only like the number 8 and use it in answering arithmetic problems but it doesn’t seem to work. I have been roosting with the chickens. They don’t seem to mind.

1939. 8
I know the alphabet. My birthday is in August and I was given the alphabet made of rubber erasers. They smell so good and look so good. Each letter is an inch long. They do not erase well. The T is impossible to erase with, but the U and D are usable. I enjoy handling them and realize I have learned the ABCs. These letters make words and all I need to do is remember where they are arranged in order to spell every word. I do have trouble with Honest. I always have, but when I find Honest starts with an H, I am disappointed. First of all, I don’t like H. It doesn’t erase, it’s the same upside down, which is a cheat, and the word Honest isn’t really honest. Spelling enough is difficult. By the time I learned its spelling I realized it’s the wrong word for enough. To me enough doesn't really mean enough, it’s just a way of solving the problem.

1940. 9
I have a pig. My dad named her Moleste. She unties shoe laces and smiles all the time. I enjoy watching pigs grovel in mud winter or summer. They smell and their smell travels in the wind. It makes me think of them and I go see them groveling and smiling.

1941. 10
We milk cows. We sing in the evening but we’re quiet in the morning.

1942. 11
I have my own room. I will never wear shoes. I painted my room yellow ochre.

1943. 12
I can leap very well. I can do the split and I climb every tree I see. A sycamore tree is a very good tree to climb. There is an experience of being welcome when high in the limbs of this tree. When I visit an aunt of mine she takes me through the house showing me her fruit preserves, her kitchen, even her bedroom and all her clothes. She is like a sycamore tree which shows all of its belongings when climbed up into. Never climb an evergreen, they don’t like it.

1944. 13
I am plowing with a horse. It is interesting following a horse all day and being the leader. A horse does what you tell it to do. The turning of the soil is rewarding and the smell makes me ambitious. Then, after an hour I go into a reverie, a sort of dream. The horse obeys, the monotony is accepted, and time dissolves. Such a wonderful spell. During these spells I compose popular songs. “All Through the Ages” is my best yet.

1945. 14
I learned to drive a truck. Does God design sunsets or is it up to dead artists who have gone to heaven?

1946. 15
I want to be a saint. I keep my eyes down and think good.

1947. 16
I went to St. School. I am still trying to be a saint and went to a monastery. It’s my third year of high school and I continued schooling while at the monastery. One can become a priest or a brother. I think that a priest has too much to do saving souls. A brother does menial work, stays at the monastery and practices the Rule of St. Benedict. Ora et Labora: Pray and work. I pinched up all my worldly thoughts, got into the habits that were required. They furnish everything, even a black habit to wear. Sometimes I think it was the black wool habit that attracted me to go there. It was a busy and fictional time. I believe I was acting it out some and after a year there I began seeking something else.

1948. 17
I cannot be a saint if I become an artist. I look at everything now as an artist and am back home finishing high school. This is the year I ran away. I have a fascination for running away. You don’t really run, you pack a suitcase, arrange to get to the highway, and begin hitchhiking. It is wonderful paying no attention to day or night, just keep hitchhiking from wherever you’re dropped off. I was free and able to hide under bridges all night, talk to strangers, make up a new name, but what about money? I realized I was almost broke and candy bars were not enough to eat, so I turned around at Daytona Beach, Florida, after spending the night on the beach. This all took from Sunday to the following Sunday when I returned home once again. My Dad said, “The Prodigal Son Hath Returned.”

1949. 18
I am learning French now at college. My French teacher has become a good friend and is now notating for piano my song “All through the Ages.”

1950. 19
Now it’s Chicago. If I were my Dad, I wonder if I would be able to do all he has done for me. One gets those thoughts traveling a long while on a train. The School of the Art Institute of Chicago is actually in the Museum’s building. There are marble steps up and down everywhere and in order to get to some classes we walk right through the galleries.

1951. 20
US55419526 I am drafted into the United States Army, on a military bus going to Fort Knox, Kentucky, where the sergeant in charge tells us to look at the number that we’ve been given and learn it so well that you will always remember it
US 55 4137 596
554 374 596
US 55419526
554 374 596
554 14 9 4 5 96
554 19526

The Army and Monastery are similar. Your clothes, housing and food are all supplied. The army is for the young. When you’re young enough to be talked into the spell of the habit. You don’t think, you do, and young people fall right into it. The army is so well arranged with, truly, an answer for anything. So, I walk around with my eyes down doing everything that I am told to do like when I was trying to be a saint.

1952. 21
The Army has sent me to Germany being on a troop ship for five days going only one way.

1953. 22
Heidelberg. I met an American student from the University of Heidelberg who learned French in German.

1954. 23
From Heidelberg I can travel. I went to Holland and saw Vermeer paintings. I have been to London and Amsterdam.

1955. 24
I am no longer in the Army and have returned to Chicago where I study art courses, wear only black and do not go to coffee breaks.

1956. 25
I live alone studying art history and paint fugues at night.

1957. 26
I painted a poster for the Lyric Opera, and found out I could be an extra in their productions. I carried a spear in “Othello” and carried a man on my back in "La Gioconda.”

1958. 26
I am a Bachelor of Fine Arts, moving to New York City. I visited New York while in the Army.

1959. 27
Now living in New York, studying ballet at the Metropolitan Opera House. After class we look down from above and watch the opera.

1960. 28
Dancing on tour. In New York I live in a loft on Fulton Street.

1961. 27
I am rising higher than ever before and there are people rising with me. We see those whom we know not rising as we pass and say hello as we rise.

1962. 30
I am living in a loft and painting pictures.

1963. 31
I copy masterpieces to see what I can do.

1964. 32
I am in love. I say I can’t help it, but I can and I don’t. That’s falling in love.

1965. 33
Painting exhibition: Allan Stone Gallery

1966. 34
I paint all the time. Isolating a commonly known image from a known painting.

1967
I am in England

1968

Notebook entry c. 2002-2006

Verse

Dogs are not like flowers
although they both can bloom.
Kittens are like flowers,
they don't know where
they are.
Flowers never know
where they are.

It's said that lobsters
are shying away from
lobster pots.
It's said that it's
to do with evolution.
It's like us, with wisdom
teeth. It's said that they're
going away.

When first I heard of
the birds and bees, I thought
surely that bees were tiny
birds.

It's that day when everything
changes and nothing is 
ever the same.

Cows do know when
it's Sunday.

Should verse be like
unblemished sprouts coming
to us in one single breath?

Undated notebook. Late. c 2002-2006

END