Tuesday, April 9, 2013

ice ice baby

confession # 1 -

i wrote a post yesterday, but forgot to publish it until late in the day, so i apologize to subscribers, who did not receive post via email yesterday. i will add it to the bottom of this post. i am blaming this forgetfulness on the 'pile up' effect of radiation fatigue....

confession # 2 -

i'm a fan of one hit wonders.

let the records show -

men without hats - safety dance 

we can dance if we want to.

right said fred.

i'm too sexy for my hat.

too sexy for my hat.  

what do you think about that?

that song has been a kind of audio backdrop around our house over the years.

i'm too sexy for my socks.

too sexy for my car.

whatever we like, or don't like, sometimes that song comes up.


the one hit wonder on my mind yesterday was vanilla ice.

ice ice baby.

it happened to be a beautiful bright sunny day, temps climbed to the 80s.

i didn't factor in the baking that was going on under the surface of my skin

until it was a bit too late, out with one of our daughters.

she had the air conditioning on.

but i opened the windows too.

 our family dj, she's forever tuning into all kinds of music.

at the stoplight she was changing the stations.

and settled on ice.

ice ice baby.

what did he say?

if there's a problem,

yo i'll solve it.

(my kinda guy)

ice ice baby?

yes please.

the burn heatin' up a bit....

reminder here --

republishing yesterdays post below for subscribers....


as the weeks have gone by, the effects of the radiation treatments have accumulated.

 you can think of it like laundry.

a little doesn't equate to any big deal, but suddenly, you can find yourself with a huge pile in your laundry room, and you might find yourself saying hey wait a minute.

at first the laundry was easy.




put away.

whistle while you work.

but then it started to pile up.

and the laundry basket itself got heavier.

the skin wasn't red at first.

or even pink.

or itchy.

or burning.

now, i've got about 23 loads of laundry brewing up in here.

when you were younger, perhaps your tan line was a kind of badge of honor.

something you worked toward.

showed your buds or boyfriend with a kind of pride.

but think of the reverse.

the burn on the opposite area of where your tan might have been.

so instead of a triangle on your breast, from your bikini top, with the tan line surrounding the pale interior, 

how about a red awkward cinder block there, complete with irregular features on it's surface, but with hard lines defining the edges, so clearly positioned within the tattoos placed to mark the radiation field?

the contours so unnatural.

so foreign.

even kind of intrusive.

imagine a rectangle, beginning at your clavicle, going over to your armpit, down the side, under your breast along the rib, and up through the center, meeting at the clavicle again.

this is your radiation tan (burn) line.

when i met with the radiation oncologist on thursday, after our visit, he asked, so how long are you going to keep your hair pink?

i said probably for the duration of treatment.

he said of course.

he said do you have any more questions for me?

i said well.

it's not really a question, i'm just so curious about how an inorganic form, with such straight hard lines, can appear on an organic form such as the body, which is innately curved.

he said get out of here.

you're talking about art now.

i said uh huh.

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virginia, United States