Michael Thomas Crogh… on “Ask not what you can do…
Love Three People like yourself.
Love yourself as well. Confess all four by me.
Day Three. I learn…like…their like.
[Turns hours,] I may have been wrong about “Amelia;” but, that’s her prerogative.
You see, I happen to be writing from Portland, Oregon; a city which proudly proclaimed itself “Strip-club capital of the United States of America—per capita.” [Please forgive their poor reading skills—thay caint Hell-pitt.]
A sustaintable ‘pride’ is of its on accord.
Ask what one may do for “their world.”
Defined in Oregon:
Dead, going to be dead, within two days.
“Amelia,” normally, is a naturally energetic, project-oriented, and artistic woman. Our neighborhood has benefitted often from “Amelia’s” found-art sculptures; she spends her spare time “painting the world” with the artist’s perspective as she scans ordinary left objects on the streets sides in our Arbor Lodge neighborhood. To witness her works (and her working) is an inspiration, (at least, for anyone gifted with the “artist’s eye.”)
As we know, trouble often has a way of creeping up upon such visionarily-open, and beauty-bound individuals. Seeing the world as they do—everything is potentially beautiful; and it is precisely this which the not-so-beautiful creeps like to exploit, which is nothing more than Her own [the artist's] natural sense of beauty, and the values contained within an ever-opening mind.
Unfortunately, when these creeps find Her in Her element, they bring out their talons, and their poisons thinking they here have found an opportunity for the fulfillment of whatever sick “need” crosses their minds, and see, within Her Life, a haven for setting-up shop for the most illicit activities they may foist upon Her. I am not, it is unfortunate, merely using the abstract voice, describing a situation which may or may not occur. This is not an exercise in fiction, as this is happening, right now, in the life of “Amelia.”
|Michael Thomas Crogh… on “Ask not what you can do…|